Roots Of Revenge
by icequeenkitty
Summary: Darkwing's Universe as a darker and scarier place, The origin of Bushroot, his ties to Taurus Bulba, and Darkwing's meeting with Gosalyn as concocted by my demented writer's imagination. Murder is only the beginning. AU Complete!
1. Blood and Soil

Roots of Revenge  
-Chapter 1-  
Blood and Soil

There was a knock at the door. His hand remained steady as he packed the two small vials into separate cases, as he tried to ignore it. The lab around him was saturated in a green aura from the array of various potted plants. The lights casting long leaf like shadows on the wall, and making it appear like a grim scene out of a B horror movie. The hesitant knock came again. His vibrant blue eyes snapped to the door as he slipped the cases in his lab coat pocket.

"What is it?!" he barked, colder than he intended but he didn't really care. He had just perfected his life's work after three long days with no sleep. If he wasn't so exhausted he would be wondering why the sky hadn't split, why angels weren't singing the hallelujah chorus at his harrowing feat. The door gently crept open.

"I'm sorry Dr. Bushroot, but there are some men here to see you." Said the pretty young brunette sweetly.

"Send them away Rhoda, I'm very busy." He turned away from her. She always made him uncomfortable; she was far too pretty to be a botanist. If he had known she was the one on the other side of the door, he certainly wouldn't have been short with her. She always made eye contact with him, always politely and intently looked into his eyes. He, personally, found it helped to look at his hands while talking to her. Why was he such a coward?

"They were very insistent Reginald." She stepped into the office and closed the door all but a crack. She continued in a frightened whisper. "Not to mention, they're pretty shady looking to boot," she paused. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

His whole body tensed. No, it couldn't be. Not tonight, was it the sixth already? Thoughtlessly he started searching his pockets, already knowing that his keys were behind the front desk in the lobby. In an instant he spun around and grasped her firmly by the shoulders.

"Rhoda I need you to stall them!"

"What?!"

"Please! I can't explain right now…" he moved in close to her and he noticed she blushed. "..There is a sample of the solution hidden in the compartment in the second drawer. Don't get it tonight, or even tomorrow… Don't let anyone know about it!"

"Reggie what's going on? What are you going to do?" Her eyes were wide and scared. She was concerned for him? Cared about him? Oh why did he have to be such a coward?

"I have to get out of here." He released her and opened the top drawer of his desk. He fumbled through the mass of papers and office supplies until his hand wrapped around it. He pulled out the worn box cutter, and eyed it numbly. The razor was old, dulled by daily use. Really it was not much of a weapon but it would have to do.

"Reggie..."

"Don't!" He cut her off as he slid the box cutter in his jacket. "Don't ask me any questions! If you do who knows what might happen." He turned and couldn't help but meet her eyes. He knew he looked pathetic, a mallard in his early thirties, lanky and dark haired with two big bright blues eyes looking desperately at her. Wondering if he had been too self defeating to see that concern on her face. Had she always looked at him the way she looked at him now?

"I'm going now," he grew very pale, "try to stall them but don't get yourself in trouble. Damn."

With that he ran out. He tore down the hall, his big clunky feet making more noise than he wished they would. He could hear them, cackling, how far could he get? Where would he go? He burst out the back door of the facility and an icy night breeze slapped him in the face. His eyes darted frantically around the area, looking for an escape into the cool spring night. His eyes drifted to the skyline, the lights of Saint Canard were like a haze that hung over the trees... the city! He felt a wave of excitement. If he could get to the city he was sure he could shake off the thugs there! His plan started to hatch as he began to sprint. He'd take the path through the woods, they came to an intersection that was always teeming with taxis. His hand instinctively patted his pocket, the two boxes were still there snug and safe. If he could just patent the botanical growth solution he would make enough to pay the loan sharks off. Why did he ever go to them for money? His research was important, but was it worth all this? He had heard about how underhanded the crooks were, but he just didn't seem to have his wits about him when he made the arrangement. Did he really have his wits about him now? He was running, the woods rising around him, fallen branches biting at his ankles and leaves slapping his face.

In the distance he heard the slamming of a door and angry voices. Had she gotten him enough time? His heart was nearly pounding out of his chest. Would they catch him? Could he convince them to let him off again? Twice they came hounding him for reimbursement and twice he had promised results. A branch caught his bill and he stumbled with a soft curse. He had been through this wood a thousand times, the sun lighting the canopy illuminating stencils of the leaves on the grassy path. The wind playing with the foliage making it dance like a technicolored ballet. Now the trees leaned in and grabbed at him, their gnarled fingers scraped and cut his skin. One swiped his face and he felt the blood soak his feathers. The path was now a minefield of mashing, gnawing teeth trying to trip him up. His breath was short and stabbing, but through this he could hear them gaining. Of course they would, he groaned to himself, they lived for this stuff. The trees rose around him and before he knew it, it was there. The giant tree he had sat under so many times, so often he came out here to think, to be alone, and get lost in his own thoughts. How he always wanted to ask her to join him. But here in the darkness, in the creeping shadows, it beckoned to him. His strength spent he found himself on his knees gasping for air at its roots. He knew he was there, but it felt like he was in another place, reliving his childhood. He couldn't feel the cuts, the bruises, not even the blood streaming down his face. He stayed on the ground, his eyes turned up to the massive branches over head, swaying gently in the night sky. When a hand grabbed him violently by the scruff of his neck and yanked him to his feet.

"Reggie.. Reggie.. yer resortin ta runnin'? You have no idea how sad dat makes me." Sneered the surly well-dressed goat that held him to eye level.

"I… I can explain..."

"Reggie, me an' tha' boys have had enough excuses outta you."

"Please... please give me more time! I'll get your money.." Reginald was regaining his senses while his teenage years ran through his head.

"We've heard dat twice already, ain't we boys?" The goat didn't lose his amused smirk but the other lackeys growled.

"No, no, this time I can do it! I..." he reached into his pocket. His heart leapt as his fingers brushed the box cutter. No, he thought, not until I need it. He pushed it aside and grasped one of the boxes. "This!" He held it up, the goat regarded it with little interest. "This is a liquid that can enhance botanical productivity ten fold with just one drop! If you just give me time, I can patent it and I can pay you back your money and then some!"

Hammerhead, was a goat of many trades. Tonight he was playing the role of muscle to regain a debt. He wasn't keen to be here at the minute, but something came up to halt their more interesting jobs. Plus, he was always up for tormenting this pencil neck. So he took the box and shoved the trembling botanist into his cronies who quickly latched onto him. He popped open the case and turned the little vile between his fingers the amber liquid sliding lazily in it's glass prison. He smiled showing every one of his yellow teeth. "Tink dis will be a hot seller doc?"

"Are you kidding? With that, one plant can feed twelve people for two months!" Reggie felt a surge of pride, while his college years nagged at the back of his brain.

"Well den whaddya say me an' da boys drop it off to da boss for ya?"

"What?" Reggie blinked, distractedly.

"Ya heard me doc. We'll take this as a down payment..."Hammerhead was almost surprised at how fast Reggie's mood changed. In one second the fear disappeared and was replaced with a scowl, a rage that could skin a cat with a glance. He wouldn't have pegged the timid duck to be capable of such a look, it was kind of refreshing. Those burning blue eyes were locked hatefully on Hammerhead with one outcome in mind. Before any of the goons could properly restrain him the box cutter came out. Reggie's body moved on adrenaline and anger. He swiped a henchman named Mouth straight down his left arm, while the horse named Hoof was sliced across his chest. One last desperate swing caught Hammerhead right across the face. The goat caught the botanist's trembling hand harshly, the razor digging deep into his palm but it looked like he didn't feel it. The little mallard lashed out at him as best he could. Hammerhead wrapped his free hand around the duck's face, blocking out the death glare he was being assaulted with."Ya know...I really had hoped ya wouldn't cause a scene Reggie." Snarled Hammerhead's bloody face.Mouth grabbed Reginald by the back of his coat and threw him to the ground. As he crashed to the grass, rage pumped through him and other people's blood stained his clothes. Little white lights floated in front of his eyes, the force of the fall had knocked the wind out of him along with his senses. The slideshow of his life was nearing its end in his mind. Hammerhead's mouth moved and it took a while before the words reached Reggie's ears. The two bleeding thugs took out their concealed weapons with malicious grins. His eyes scanned the glinting butterfly knife and the billy club, panic seizing his heart. The sound finally reached him. Hammerhead's words said:

"Rub him out."

Darkwing Duck and other related characters are (c) Disney I have used them with out permission, no profit was made. This story however is (c) Christina Smith 2004/2006.

---- Update 5-2-2007

Hi hi, the early chapters of this story have been bugging me for a loooooooooong time. So I tweaked them a bit. Nothing really big, I added some smoother transitions and skimmed them quickly to fix the lingering errors.


	2. The Trap

**Roots of Revenge **

-Chapter 2-

The Trap

The questions were taking forever and weighed down her heart. The police came quickly just in time to do nothing. They didn't find Reggie or his pursuers. How many questions were they going to ask?

"I am sorry Doctor Dendrin we have just a few more questions for you.."

"Why!" her voice was unsteady. She saw it, the look in Reggie's eyes like he knew he wasn't coming back. "Why aren't you looking for him?"

"We're doing all we can, we will find him. Please calm down."

The moonlight drowned the wood's canopy, only small flecks of light danced across the grass between the gathered swaying leaves. The tree flailed it's branches in the sudden wind, proclaiming it's unheard pain. A police dog walked past, leaving with out noticing the freshly dug soil. Reginald Bushroot rested under the earth, the bloody mess that was once the mallard. Hammerhead's cronies had dug a deep grave for the pathetic heap that once held so much life, but in the process tore up the roots of the looming tree. Now the silence lay heavily in the forest, blood soaking the soil, a mangled body shoved among the roots. Everything was broken before they let him die, including a hidden trinket in the pocket of his jacket. The liquid had now merged with the morbid undergrowth. The police were right, they would find him… but not as they had left him.

Across the bay, in the thick of the city of St. Canard, a cool pair of eyes took in the scene with impatience. The streets were dead tonight. Did that make him uneasy? No, just annoyed. He had been closer than ever to catching Taurus Bulba's lackeys. He'd been tracking them and knew what their next move was until…he clenched his fist as the humid breeze swirled his cape around him, until "_They_" ruined it all. "_They_" had set up a trap for him. A secret that "_They_" didn't want anyone to know about, so naturally, every shady group, gang, or individual (himself included), knew all about it. So all the city larceny would take a night off so not to interfere with S.H.U.S.H.'s "secret" play date with Darkwing Duck. They no doubt wanted to put him out of commission for showing them up so often, and now they stood waiting for him in the old Duckland Shoes warehouse.

In turn here he was, standing on the neighboring rooftop ready to meet his should be friends; really they were on the same side. Darkwing took off this wide brimmed black fedora and made sure his ebony bandanna was tightly secured. He decided not to enter with a speech tonight, he couldn't be sure how many agents were waiting for him, anywhere from five to fifteen, depending on how much of a threat they thought he was. He aimed his grappling gun at the warehouse. His pale blue eyes fixed on a glowing window. He knew what he was going to do. He hopped up on the railing, the treads of his steel-toed boots gripping firmly on the material below. He knew he was going to show them up once again…knew he'd piss them off beyond words. He smirked and put the hat back on, "Let's Get Dangerous."

The shattered glass rained down upon the dusty warehouse's empty shoeboxes from a second story window. A purple smoke filled the room. The figure tied to a chair in the center of the room was quickly taken out by a ragged blue high-heeled pump. When the shoe hit the figure a spring loaded net shot up and fell around the damsel in distress decoy. The smoke resided and Darkwing was nowhere to be seen.

"Are we done? Because unlike you I have better things to waste time on. Or is this what S.H.U.S.H. squanders the tax payer's money on?"

His voice echoed off the empty walls. A massive figure emerged from a corner clapping. The brown grizzly bear slammed his excessively large hands together and flashed a grin that displayed his arsenal of razor sharp teeth.

"Veri impressif Darkwink Duck, but yoo vill not leaf here alivef."

"What's the matter Grizlikof? Ashamed at how I'm already making you look bad?" mocked Darkwing's thrown voice. He had mastered the skill when he was a child, now he quite enjoyed taunting his enemy from one place and never being caught.

"I see yoo haf done yoor research, yes I am Grizlikof and yoo are a vigilante and S.H.U.S.H. does not approve of vigilantes!" snarled the large Russian Bear, "Yoo vill surrender or yoo vill die!"

"My, my, that's quite a threat Huggybear."

"Eet's not an empty vwon."

Darkwing slinked along the rafters. Ten, there were ten S.H.U.S.H. agents ready to strike. He wrapped his cape around him. "I'm shaking in my boots, honest." His voice quipped from the other side of the room. _It's time to show these chumps a thing or two_, he smirked to himself.

"Vill yoo be man enough to show yourself and stop playink hide and seek?" The bear grunted as his eyes scanned the area the voice had come from. Empty wooden planks and dusty boxes met his glare, there was a soft shuffling noise behind him.

"Hide and Seek? Agent Grumpy Bear, I am disappointed in you. No, no it's called stealth. Maybe you and your kids should look into it, they might have lasted longer."

Grizlikof turned and saw every one of his agents out cold. He bared his teeth and snarled. Blood started pounding in his ears as a blinding rage swept over him.

"Now, now, deep breaths Griz. Count to ten," chuckled the same voice behind him.

Grizlikof spun around and saw the masked mallard for the first time. He was short and lean with a deep black outfit that made him hard to see in the dark warehouse. He stood nonchalantly before him tipping his hat over his face.

"So now, you were saying something about killing me?" a pair of cold blue eyes locked on Grizlikof from the mass of black. The bear snorted and a blast of hot air slammed Dark in the face, which almost caused his hat to fly off his head.

"Eet looks like de pleasure vill be mine!" The Bear's trash can lid sized hand swiped at Darkwing. Prepared, Dark pulled out his gun as he simultaneously dodged and shot Grizlikof in the face. The grizzly coughed and wheezed as the tear gas strangled his lungs and shoved itself up his nose. Through the smoke and tears he spotted Darkwing with his arms folded and a smile on his face.

"So eet's gunplay es it?" he growled as he pulled out S.H.U.S.H.'s standard Colt .45 out of its concealed holster. Darkwing crouched preparing to run whipping out his grappling gun.

"Agent Grizlikof, that is quite enough." A new voice said to Dark's left.

An older, balding fowl emerged from the shadows. He was stout, portly, and was sporting the navy suit uniform of S.H.U.S.H. Despite his grandfatherly appearance Dark knew by the glint in his eye, this one was trouble. Darkwing straightened and Grizlikof trembled, the gun still readied.

"J. Gander Hooter, I presume." he put his hand on a gas grenade concealing his actions with his drawn cape.

"Why yes I am, bravo. And you are the infamous Darkwing Duck." There was pleasantness in his voice that made Dark uneasy.

"So I've been told. Tell me Hooter, why have you decided that devoting an entire operation to take me out is more important than aiming for the bad guys?"

Hooter laughed, not a malicious laugh, a laugh of genuine amusement.

"Darkwing Duck you really are something. Your confidence is inspiring. You came in, tore apart our deception and continued to incapacitate every available field agent. Truly, you are a very incredible individual."

"Well your welcome, now that you're through being in awe of my skills, maybe you should turn your attention to how we're on the same side." Darkwing was losing his patience. That's when he noticed them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two agents lurking at the broken window that he was planning to make his exit.

"Ah, yes. We do go after the same fiends. However we are working with the law not against it. You must understand why we are addressing this situation." J. Gander had taken off his bifocals and was now cleaning them off with a handkerchief.

"Oh yeah no biggie, I gotcha. Griz already filled me in, 'Vigilante es no gud'." His brain was racing for an escape route.

"Hm yes. Mr. Darkwing I'm not sure what possessed you take this ridiculous way of life, be it your parents were murdered in front of you rendering you an orphan or you were bitten by some kind of radioactive pest. One thing is certain; the safety of Saint Canard is in the hands of her police and us. Three's a crowd you understand." His knowing eyes were fixed on Dark.

"You read too many comics J. Gander. I just do what has to be done. Under your noses or behind your back I will continue to fight crime."

He knew what he was going to do… but could he get away with it?

Darkwing Duck and all other related characters are (c) Disney  
This Story is (c) me, Christina Smith so there :P

---- Updated 5-2-2007-----


	3. Dramatic Exit

**Roots of Revenge **

-Chapter 3-

Dramatic Exit

J. Gander had his eyes locked on him; Dark knew he had to time this just right.

"I'm going to give you an other option,…" his glasses flashed in the dim lighting of the warehouse. "If you feel so passionately about justice loose the façade and join us."

"No! Hooter I vill not allow dis!" Grizlikof finally had managed to put away his gun.

"Agent Grizlikof, last time I checked you took orders from me."

The bear stood crest fallen and trying in vain to hide his outrage. Darkwing couldn't help but smile.

"Join S.H.U.S.H.? I'll admit I do look good in a suit but I don't work well with others. I'm sure you understand… plus there's nothing dramatic about paperwork." He wrapped his finger around the gas bomb's pin. _Wait for it…_ Hooter shook his head.

"That is too bad Darkwing, you really were very impressive. You would have made an excellent agent. Now you leave us no choice but to exterminate you."

"Now who's confident?"

Darkwing saw Hooter smile and pulled the pin. The explosion of purple smoke surprised them as he had hoped. Instantaneously he dropped to his knees and quickly located the weak board below him and punched it with his spiked glove. The floor gave way. He stumbled to his feet in the basement as the smoke from above sank around him. He saw the window right where he remembered the blueprints said. He heard the roar of a very unhappy Grizlikof and dashed to the window and kicked the glass out with his steel-toed boot. He pulled himself into the alley; two S.H.U.S.H. agents were already approaching, pistols drawn. With out hesitation he fired at them, sending a pink gas swirling in the air blocking their path. He turned and leaped on the nearest fire escape a little black box blinking it's green light on his belt; he darted up the stairs. Bullets whizzed up past him and he hopped up onto the roof. He stood in the center of the empty rooftop panting and sweating uncomfortably under layer after dark layer. Pangs of pain ran up and down his legs. He knew they were loaded with splinters and glass, but he'd deal with that later. He heard the clanging of dress shoes on metal steps. He smirked, a dramatic exit as always. The wind kicked up as the deafening sound of a jet engine approached. Darkwing turned back to the fire escape to see S.H.U.S.H. agent Grizlikof pushing two lesser agents out of the way. Darkwing took off his hat and bowed as a ladder dropped out of the air beside him.

"It was fun Griz, but like I said I have better things to waste time on!" He latched on to the ladder and the duck head shaped jet rose away as the cease fire ended causing bullets to "ping" off the bullet proof Thunderquack. He reached the open bottom hatch, pulled up the ladder, and slammed it shut.

"How'd it go Dee-dubble-yuh?" said the well-built pilot.

"Don't expect to be invited to tea Launchpad." Grumbled Dark as he sat in the co-pilot seat, tossing his hat behind him.

"Aw that's a shame I found a great crumb cake recipe the other day." Launchpad commented lightly as he flipped the radar jammer into action. Darkwing laughed and propped his hands behind his head. It was safe to say he could chalk up another victory on his list.

The situation was not the same in the heart of the city. In an large unmarked building pacing in an extravagant waiting room was a goat… and he was far from being in good spirits. His face hurt, and there was blood all over his favorite gray pinstriped suit. He barely had time to patch up the cut when Taurus Bulba requested a full report. So now here he stood in front of the massive mahogany doors that separated him from the Kingpin of Saint Canard. He knew in his gut that Bulba wanted Dr. Bushroot alive, but the sight of his own blood made him forget that. His only saving grace was the small vile in his breast pocket. It wasn't a total loss.

"He'll see you now." Said the blonde secretary.

He inhaled and opened the door. The office was dark, no surprise there, he kept it dark when he was discussing "business". Taurus Bulba's hulking silhouette was perched in his big red swiveling chair, seated behind his cedar desk. That damned pet vulture was sitting on his shoulder.

"Cut yourself shavink?" laughed the Bull.

"Err.." Hammerhead brilliantly retorted.

"I know vhat you hev done you fool. Don't even think about lyink to me."

Hammerhead felt his entire being go cold. The vulture watched him with one blood red eye.

"Your temper vill get you kilt my friend, fortunately tonight it took care of the dear Docktor. I belief you haf somethink for me."

Hammerhead fumbled with his pocket and produced the vial. He carefully placed it on the desk.

"Yes, veri goot. I believe our friend Professor Waddlemeyer vill haf some fun with dis." The Bull's hand enveloped the small glass bottle; Hammerhead's heart rose. "Which reminds me. I haf another project for you." He held a paper out to Hammerhead, who took it and looked it over.

"Waddlemeyer's granddaughter?"

"Indeed. He's been loosing momentum since ve graciously brought him here. I think the girl vill serve as motivation."

"Right." He folded the paper and placed it in his pocket as he turned to leave.

"Hammerhead…do not loose your temper dis time or you vill not get off so easy."

----------------------------------------

---- Updated 5-2-2007-----


	4. Rebirth and Steel Pipes

** Roots of Revenge **

-Chapter 4-

Rebirth and Steel Pipes

The sun was rising, seeping a red hue across the waking world when Dr. Rhoda Dendrin was finally permitted to aid in the search. The police had found blood on some foliage and a shoe on the far west side of the forest. She didn't believe he was dea…, she couldn't even think about it. She knew that if he needed somewhere to hide it would be at _that_ tree. She pushed a branch out of her face and felt the blood rub off on her fingers. Her heart sank into her stomach, she refused to look at her hand but instead had her sight locked on the red trail that adorned the leaves in front of her. The police dog moved along beside her, the tree was just ahead. He'd be there she knew it! She pushed the officer out of her way and rushed past the interfering plant life.

"Reginald?! REGGIE!" She screamed and burst into the grove. The sun caught her eyes and she squinted around the small clearing. For an instant her memories flooded her senses and she saw him sitting at the tree's roots, his black hair lazily blowing about and his beautiful eyes upon her. She blinked and reality smashed upon her, as she noticed the violent splattered blood that mingled with the surroundings. Her legs gave out and started trembling as the tears swam down her face. The policeman walked on and stopped.

"What the hell is that?"

She raised her eyes and saw what appeared to be a sapling that had sprouted from the roots of Reggie's tree. It was man height and was far too advanced to have grown there naturally. She tried to say this but she could only produce feeble sounding noises through her tears.

"Looks like some kinda tree.." the dog pulled off a leaf from the tree and it moved. In a whirl of clumsy choreography the tree had wrapped it's branches around the canine's throat. And before she knew it she heard herself screaming. The tree released the limp body, which crumpled to the floor. It retracted it's branches and wrapped them around the rim of the trunk right below the canopy. Then it opened them. It opened it's eyes.

There was a noise. A horrible shrieking noise, it tore through his head and rammed into his brain. He remembered he could see and with blinding flash he saw the world spinning around him. The noise was still there, it made him want to rip his roots out! He had no sooner thought it, when he felt his roots departing from the soil, digging their way to the surface. He blinked and the spinning toned down. The painful racket was still ringing in his head and he could see something swirling around making the sound. For something so small it really could make quite a lot of noise. It was a strange flower with white and brown petals…no. Something else reawakened within him. It wasn't a flower… it was a woman. The screeching abruptly stopped and a softer weaker sound started coming from the woman. The spinning ceased and he focused on the cowering figure, she was hiding her face with her arms making painful sounds. Crying. Yes, crying, that's what they call it. _They_? The creature looked down at the long slender leaves sprouting from his branches and discovered he could move them. _They…? _No…. _We? _….**_I. _**Suddenly it hit him like a freight train. His past life bombarded him relentlessly, perhaps worst of all he could remember the pain of his death. He stood there staring at his "hands" until he heard her whimpering.

"You… you killed him didn't you…" she let out a painful sob. "You monster you killed Reggie!"

He opened his mouth and felt the dryness of his throat. He could speak? Right, of course he could… Reggie could speak.. so why not him?

"Rhoda." His voice was hoarse and cracked, this 'talking' was painful.

She slowly removed her arms from her face. Her brown eyes danced with tears and fright.

"No…." she whispered. "y… you can't be…. Reg…"

"I'm not." He found that swallowing helped heal the pain of speech.

"But…" Her eyes locked on his. "Your…."

"I was Reginald Bushroot." His words were filled with a thick hatred, and a coldness she had never witnessed before in those eyes. "Until they killed him. Now…" he looked miserably at himself. "Now I am as you said a 'monster'."

He felt his bark quiver when her hand touched him. He looked her in the face and didn't see the fear that had dwelled there moments ago.

"No…. Reggie. Your no monster… your alright, that is all that matters."

"Alright? **_Alright_**?! " the trees around them shuddered at the sound on his voice. "Does this look alright to you! I was murdered! Rhoda do you understand that! Murdered! Now I am some mutated freak! All because of… _them_." There was a glint in his eyes as he recalled his murderers that made her want to run. But she didn't.

"Reggie….w..what are you saying?"

"I've said already that Reginald is dead. Now I am just Bushroot. Kind of ironic don't you think? And what I'm saying, Rhoda, is that every good murder deserves an other."

The morning sun was gently rising to it's peak. It nagged at his eyelids, so he pulled the cap down over his eyes. The scrap yard was quiet as usual, good thing too, he needed to catch up on some sleep. He had a numbness all throughout his body, it was quite pleasant, well better than the pain he had felt no more than two hours earlier. It took him an hour and a half to fish out the glass and splinters. A sigh escaped him while he opened his icy blue eyes. He couldn't shake what Hoover had said. 'I don't know what possessed you to live this ridiculous way of life..' … _ridiculous_? He looked out over the mounds of scrap metal glaring in the bright rays of the sun. He usually made himself leave "Darkwing" in the Audubon Bay Bridge hideout; he was Drake Mallard during the day. However, lately he'd been slipping. The fact of the matter was, that he _was _Darkwing. Drake Mallard only existed to report for work and sign checks. He had no friends, no known residence and no family. So Drake Mallard wasn't exactly a secret identity, more of an invisible person. And this invisible person was currently in a foul mood. Usually he'd rummage through the scrap salvaging for pieces that held potential. Normally he'd have his police radio on, listening intently to the criminal activity that happened while the sun was out. But today he just wanted to sleep. So when he heard the distant clanging he growled, and painfully stood up.

"Damn kids…. I've had enough with the god damned punks."

He stormed out of the small shack that was referred to as 'the office'. The hot sun beat down on him and he heard the sounds of an 'epic battle'. He malevolently smiled to himself. He'd scare them good this time. Those stupid brats should know better than to play in a scrap yard anyway. He snuck up and saw them, two little boys clanging hollow pipes together, mimicking a sword battle. Drake Mallard wasn't invisible to everyone of course. He had made quite an impression on the kids of the block. 'Mad Marbles Mallard', that's what they called him, thinking he was a deranged lunatic who hated kids. They were half right. So now what better time to practice a little voice acting? 'Mad Marbles' would scare these kids home crying to momma. His smirk grew and he cleared his throat, it was then he noticed another one. This one was shorter than the other two, and was wearing a bright blue baseball cap. It seemed Blue hat was rummaging for a good weapon, mission accomplished apparently because he quickly entered the fray swinging harder and more efficiently than the others.

"Three's more fun than two.." Drake thought to himself and he prepared one of his favorite voices. Mad Marbles Mallard's scratchy high-pitched southern drawl boomed, "Whut's dat ya smell Killer!? Some dang kids? Whell SUUUUEEEY! Lets'a git' um!"

The boys dropped their weapons, except for Blue hat who held his ready.

"I told you we shouldn't have come here!" squealed boy one.

"We're gunna DIE! It's all your fault!" Sobbed boy two pointing accusedly at Blue hat.

"Oh shut up! I'll get 'em!" shouted Blue hat triumphantly. Drake snuck up from behind them while Marbles' voice came from in front.

"Ovah here Killer! Ah can smell um! WHOO-BOY we're eatin good tonight!"

"I'm getting outta here!" Shrieked boy two tears streaming down his face. The other boy nodded in agreement.

"Well you babies can go! I'm stayin' here!" proclaimed Blue hat.

Drake was right behind the shaking boys. He straightened himself out , making himself look as tall as he could, then quickly (and loudly) clapped a hand down on each of the boy's shoulders.

"Ah got um boy! Yoo kids shouldn'a come here!"

The boys bolted ripping free of his loose grip screaming like two-year-old girls. He was just about to laugh when he got whacked in the leg with a steel pipe. He felt his knee give out and a fresh wave of pain flood over him from those damn wounds.

"Okay Marbles! You better start walkin' unless you wanna face a night in the hospital!" growled the fearless Blue hat.

"Are you nuts kid!? What the hell's the matter with you!?" snarled Drake. From his kneeling position he was at eye level with the tiny terror. He was shocked at what stared back at him.

**_ "A girl!"_**

Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney

This story is © Christina Smith


	5. Prophecy

Roots of Revenge

-Chapter 5-

Prophecy

"Oh your quick! I'm not just a girl I am Gosalyn the zombie slayer!! And I'll be damned if Marbles Mallard is gunna scare me!"

"You better watch your language miss or it will never improve.." lectured Drake through clenched teeth, his body was screaming in pain. Blue hatt-ed Gosalyn propped the pipe up on her shoulder.

"So your Marbles?" her big green eyes traveled all over him. "Your nothing like the other kids say. They say he's a huge-o beastly looking duck with jagged teeth and more muscles than all the guys on Most X-treme Wrestleton-amania."

"Yeah well you caught me on a bad day." Drake growled as he straightened up wincing.

"Riight." She sarcastically agreed.

"Shouldn't you be at home playing dress up and having tea parties? I swear I've tried everything to keep you bratty kids out of here." Drake took his cap off and wiped his brow.

"Eh, who wants to do that girly stuff?" she swung the pipe again, Drake casually leaned out of it's path.

"What I mean is **_go home_**."

For an instant he thought he saw pain in her eyes, but that dreadful thing called curiosity overpowered it.

"Why are you so mean? I didn't do anything."

"Now which exactly do you call not doing anything, trespassing or hitting me with a _PIPE_!" His voice rose at the end of the sentence this girl was getting to him.

"Well alright, I _am_ sorry about the pipe thing. But why do you scare kids?" She put the pipe down as a sign of peace, he ignored it.

"Why? Because _I'm mean_ you said it yourself, so scram." He turned and started back toward "the office", she trotted up along side him.

"Yeah but your not really mean you just like to play tricks right?" her eyes twinkled. "I love tricks too this one time I let a pig loose in the boys bathroom and.."

"Excuse me Ms. Zombie Slayer but you are still trespassing and I'm still telling you to scram." He caught a glimpse of red and found himself staring at her. She had taken the hat off and had her face turned down, her bright red hair making a dramatic first appearance. There was definitely something very dramatic about this girl, something about her that made it so he couldn't help but not despise her. He caught himself smiling and quickly shook it off.

"What do you want from me kid?" he said grumpily.

"I don't want anything…. well nothing much." She turned her pleading green eyes up at him.

"Here we go… well whatever it is forget it." He coldly replied.

"No wait it's just…. I…I don't want to go home just yet…"

"Why? Did you break a window or something?" he said flatly. He wanted her to leave before he started to like her again.

"Oh please! If it was that I'd be out her everyday." She giggled. "I just don't want to go back, not right now. Can't I just stay here with you for another hour? I promise you won't even know I'm here!"

" I don't think so."

"Oh please! Just help me out! I'll clean or something!"

He stopped and so did she. He gave her a backward glance then turned to her putting his hands in his pockets. Her big green eyes locked on his in determination.

"Clean? Boy you really don't want to go back huh?" She shook her head furiously. He scratched his forehead and she knew she had broken him down. "Okay. One hour. That's **_it_**. But forget the cleaning part, it will make me look bad."

She broke out into a huge smile and slapped the cap back on her head.

"Thanks Mister Mallard! You won't be sorry!"

"'Mister Mallard'? I'm no 'Mister' just call me Drake."

"Oh good, Marbles isn't your real name," she laughed.

In that one second everything changed. Drake Mallard was no longer invisible. He had a friend.

The mid-day sun shone down on the city, it's people bustling along with business as usual. The effect was the same across the Audubon bay and into the suburbs. Business flowed normally on the hot summer day, though a little slower in some areas than others. One of these spots was McDuck's Automotive Repair, a well respected business just a stone's throw away from the teeming metropolis. It has a wonderful location right on the edge of a thick wood. In the hot days of summer, like this one, the shop was wide open to welcome any sort of breeze that would happen to meander by. Something was strange today, the black-feathered mallard that was the manager of said establishment was sure of it. Only problem was he couldn't figure out what. He stared into the street a cigarette clamped in his bill. He used a smoke break in hopes of finding relief in a breeze, but none was to be found. The smoke curled around in front of his eyes, while he tried to peg the abnormality. The sound of a drill roared from inside, he smirked.

"That boy will work himself into an early grave and love every minute of it," he laughed to himself.

The drill was loud today. Or…. was it? **_Aha! _**He turned to the woods behind the shop triumphantly; he'd found what was awry. Stomping out his cigarette he made his way back inside. Two brown boots stuck out from under a beat up pick up truck; he kicked the sole of the left foot. The drill stopped and the mechanic rolled out, he was a tall, barrel chested duck, currently covered in dirt and oil and peering at his boss through a pair of goggles. Jack, the manager leaned against the truck and addressed his best employee.

"Launchpad, do you hear that?"

Launchpad sat up and wiped the oil off his face feathers. He strained his ears.

"I don't hear anything Mr. J."

"Neither do I," said Jack seriously. " I don't get it, not one rustle, chirp, or squawk is coming from the woods. It doesn't bode well."

Launchpad listened again and agreed with Jack. Since he had moved from Duckburg he had been working here. And everyday the foliage was always noisy with the sounds of critters, but today it was quiet as death. He slid the goggles back onto his head. He'd have to tell DW about this… it was just too weird. He'd have to wait till later though; he wasn't quite sure where DW went during the day. He wiped his oily hands off on a rag. That was the thing with DW, he was a loner. Not out of some blinding egotism but unrelenting concern. He didn't let Launchpad know anything about his secret identity; in fact LP wasn't sure if he even had one. He was certain that the reasoning was the same as any comic hero's: not wanting to endanger friends and family by dragging them into his battles. Jack had walked out toward the woods and Launchpad sighed. It was hard being the best friend of a crime fighter, but he didn't mind, as long as DW had the guts to go out every night and protect the innocent Launchpad would be on call to aid him, it was the least he could do. His musings were interrupted when the canopy of the forest shuddered. He wandered to the window just in time to se an explosion of birds rocket out of the wood at top speed and disappear overhead. Then there came the animals, of all shapes and sizes running from their home all with the same terrified urgency. Something was in those woods that scared them out of their minds. Launchpad shuddered as a breeze swirled around him, and the deafening silence had once more saturated the forest.

Why? Why did he do it? He stumbled over his roots, he couldn't get use to his new feet. He didn't know why he killed them. He barely remembered doing it. He had been talking with Rhoda when a searing pain shot through him, it was like he blacked out and when he came back to his senses he was in a part of the wood he had never seen before dragging a police man's body behind him. He knew he still had a heart because it was pounding painfully in his throat. There was also a stabbing pain on his left thigh, and on closer inspection it was bleeding… was it blood? What was keeping him alive if it wasn't blood? His head swam with a chaotic choir of questions. Yes he was alive, but for how long? He'd figured his revival had something to do with the serum, but how long would it last? Could it be permanent or would he wither and die tomorrow? If that was the case would he be able to find Hammerhead in time? What would he do when he did find the ghastly goat?

"Kill him." That was the strongest answer in his leafy head. And this disturbed him. The numbness was wearing off and he was beginning to realize he was already a murderer. He started to tremble and fell to his knees; he had killed two police officers for no reason. He really was a monster. These thoughts didn't plague him long however, the strong, tall voice in his head was chanting, "Kill him" and Bushroot discovered that this voice wasn't his. A branch swung down and wrapped itself around him, lifting him off the ground.

"What are you waiting for Bushroot? Avenge our brothers and yourself!" rustled the tree.

"How do you know me? How are you talking?" he was surprised to hear his voice come out calm.

In response the tree laughed. It was an old strong sound that had a peculiar creak in it. The branches bopped up and down and showered pine needles around him. A laughing tree? Bushroot decided it was a beautiful sight.

"Everyone knows about you Bushroot! We've all heard about the prophesized walking sapling but we never dreamed it would sprout from good Dr. Reginald." Bushroot smiled, the trees had liked him. " Now you've come to take back the concrete jungle!"

"I have? I mean… are you sure I'm this walking sapling?" he realized how stupid he sounded too late and the tree laughed again.

"Do you see any other walking plant life around here?"

"No…. I suppose not.. What was that about a prophecy?"

"Hmmm… that's not a really accurate word… leaves too much to guess work. Let's just say that at the core, every tree has a cloud.. something Reggie's people might have called a spirit. It holds our life source; over time it's become dormant and sealed beneath layers of bark and wick. But for all we lacked in mobility we made up for in knowledge, some even clairvoyant. That is how we knew about your coming. Only you know how to access your cloud and bend it to your will, and just by being in your presence we are able to do the same." The tree held Bushroot still and the wind ruffled their leaves. "They have hurt us… they have scarred and eaten up our mother Earth. You have an army at your command; the time has come to take back what was once ours. The tree gently placed Bushroot on the grass. "Where better to start than with your murderers?"

It sounded ridiculous… and yet he understood and knew it was true. Maybe it was the tree in him? But he stood there in the woods and opened his mind to hear a crowd of voices. Branches stirred and leaves fell, the army was gathering.

Darkwing Duck and all related Characters are © Disney

This story is © Christina Smith

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I updated? The world must be ending ; Sorry it took me forever to get this uploaded. Hence why it's long.. Trying to make up for lost time... Trust me there's a lot more to come. Now getting it out of my head onto paper and typed up on my computer is another issue. Please be paitient with me... -; I'd also like to add that from the beginning that this was ment to be a series... at least five stories each dealing with dark origins for the Feindish Five.... and now that I have (finally) decided on all the origins and plotted them out i can actually get crackin so here's hoping updates are frequent and not completely terrible... (and if your curious... as it stands Quackerjack is next ;3 )


	6. Rumble in the Park

Roots of Revenge

-Chapter 6-

Rumble in the Park

The city's lights would come on in only an hour's time. The roads were teeming with traffic as were the sidewalks. The day was nearly gone and those working the nine to five were well on their way home, well nearly all of them. When a time limit is set upon one usually respects the agreement and bows out when their time is up. However the pair in the scrap yard's office hadn't noticed a change of even five minutes. That is the wonder of fate and the course, conversation. Drake sat in the ragged desk chair, his feet propped up on the desk, while Ms. Zombie-Slayer was perched on a sealed cardboard box.

"Alright, you make a valid point but what makes you think Batduck is so great?" Drake sneered, she was full of spirit this one.

"Are you serious?" She snorted. "Come on Superduck, Spider-duck, and all of the X-ducks are all aliens or mutated weirdoes," her eyes sparkled she loved this stuff, "…but Batduck worked hard to get where he is. He doesn't have any cheap super powers just WHAMMO! Brains and brawn!" She punched the air enthusiastically.

"Oh please, you call being the sole benefactor of a fortune 'working hard'? He doesn't even have to lift a finger he can devote all his time to crime because he was orphaned with a silver spoon in his mouth. The others gotta hold down jobs **_and_** help people."

"Eh who cares about secret identities anyway they're boring. Just give me action! Boy I'd give those bad guys a thing of two! Just like Gizmoduck!"

This time it was Drake who snorted. He let out a disgusted sigh, sat up, put his feet on the ground, and faced her.

"GIZMODUCK? Ha! That idiot? A rolling Swiss Army Knife with the I.Q. of cheese is hardly a hero."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you take on creeps like Magica Spell and Beagle Boys and trash 'em as good as Gizmoduck! He came to visit us at the orp…" she broke eye contact momentarily, "…at my school and he was so awesome!"

"So big, loud, and clumsy is awesome? What does skill count for nothing any more? " He felt himself getting angry and tried to repress it, but she noticed and struck.

"So you don't like Gizmoduck huh? Don't like any super heroes or crime fighters? Whaddya go home and watch Pelican's Island reruns and sappy lovey dovey junk?"

"Hardly. All I'm saying is that out there is a guy who's got more smarts and moves than that clanking conniption Gizmoduck could ever dream of having!"

Her bright green eyes were alight with undivided curiosity, and he felt himself well up with pride. Maybe today he'd make a fan out of her.

"Keen Gear! Who's that?" she leaned in closer to him waiting to soak in every word.

"No one is quite sure who he is, but I've heard about him over that police radio over there. They say he's the terror that flaps in the night, he wears all black and can disappear with out a trace. He never rests in his nightly war with the city. They say he's so good S.H.U.S.H. is jealous. They call him, Darkwing Duck." His pride was rolled up into every syllable, and she hung on to every breath. When he finished he leaned back into his chair, quite pleased with himself, until she laughed.

"Your hero is some goofy vigilante? Sounds pretty lame to me, I mean come on. No one has even heard of the guy, whad'ya do make him up? Come on Drake, vigilantes are just big babies with no social skills." She giggled, until she saw the scowl on his face, and then the time on the clock behind him. "Oh no!" she shrieked. "I gotta go!"

Drake blinked and turned around. "Geeze is it that late already? I'm surprised your parents weren't going nuts looking for you."

"I'm going to be in so much trouble!" She grabbed her hat and rushed to the door. Putting her hand on the knob she turned to him with a big smile. " Thanks Drake I had fun today. Um… is it all right if I try and come back tomorrow? I'll bring my Gizmoduck scrapbook."

"Uh… sure." He responded in a slight state of shock. He hadn't lost track of time in months, especially at the scrap yard. Gosalyn pulled the hat on her head and opened the door.

"All right! Later Drake!" and she was gone.

It was a humid night, in a dense heat that was accented by the distant threat of thunder. Things were back to normal, thieves were thieving, burglars were burgling, and Darkwing Duck was brooding. He had gotten to the bridge head quarters quickly, changed, and headed out into the city. He'd stopped five robberies, ten muggings, and two car jackings. For once he was counting, and he was also being sloppy. He didn't want to admit it but she had gotten to him. She **_laughed_** at him. If anyone should be laughed at it's that rolling junk heap Gizmoduck. So he was letting his stealth slip for tonight, in hopes of a front-page story. He'd show her a "goofy vigilante". He finished tying up a would be jewel theif and crept into an alley. He sat for a second, he had left the bridge tower before Launchpad had shown up and before he could be tempted by sleep. The stabbing pains were still bombarding his legs and being smacked with a pipe didn't help either. When she re-entered his mind he stood up. A Gizmoduck scrapbook, he frowned, what a ham. From the darkness of the alley he noticed something. A well-dressed figure, in a gray suit and hat walking past. Darkwing could have kicked himself, he'd forgotten all about Hammerhead! What luck that he'd be here. Dark crept along the shadows trailing him. What was he doing alone? He usually had tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum tagging along at his heels. And where was he going? Hammerhead stopped and put out his cigarette under the heel of his well-polished dress shoe. Dark stowed away in a near by alcove just in time to dodge the ram's backward glance. Hammerhead tugged at his jacket and headed off toward the park Dark picked up this stealth and silently trailed him.

The tall trees blocked the moon and artificial lighting giving the park an evil face. Darkwing was never much of a nature lover..and he had his work cut out for him not to make a sound, twigs and other fallen booby traps threatened to give him away. That was he came to the city, there were more people than trees around. Hammerhead walked into a clearing and Dark hung back ducking behind a tree. The ram was approaching a figure, a small figure with… red hair? Gosalyn! He could hardly believe it but there she was, her fiery red hair pulled into pigtails. She was wearing a soft purple jersey, denim pedal pushers, the blue cap, and a look that could kill. Hammerhead was the one receiving the glare and Darkwing was brought out of his thoughts by the ram's laugh.

"Well, well, well is dat anyway to greet da guy who is about ta make ya no longer an orphan?" he cackled.

_Orphan!_

"So you're the one who sent me the letter, I know who you are. Your Hammerhead Hannigan… what have you done to my Grandpa!" Snarled the orphan.

"Oh don't worry Ms. Waddlemyer, you'll be able to see yer Grandpappy real soon. I just need ya ta come with me."

"Yeah right! Why should I trust you?"

_You tell him Gos … don't let him trick you! _

"Fine." Hammerhead jammed his hands in his pockets. " Ya don't hafta do anythin' ya don' wanna. So by all means march yerself back to the orphanage. I'm sure Mrs. Cavanaugh will have quite the speech prepared for you."

The look on her face was impossible to misread, it was pure misery. Darkwing could have kicked himself for the second time tonight. She was an orphan and he kept bringing up parents… well not him, Drake. He could see she would go with Hammerhead and neither Darkwing Duck nor Drake Mallard would have that. Gosalyn broke eye contact with her tormentor; she was scared though her voice did not give it away.

"You better take me to him… you better not be lying."

Hammerhead sneered and rather harshly grabbed her arm. She wanted to run, to as get far away from him as she could, but she made a deal with them… and what if her Grandfather was still alive? She looked up at the long scarred face that hung over her and suddenly it was gone. Everything disappeared into an explosion of purple smoke. She felt Hannigan's grip fail, felt a strong current swirl the smoke drastically around her, and heard him cry out in pain. Though her eyes were useless she felt someone beside her and she swung a tight fist wildly at it. With a strong grip it grabbed her and effortlessly wrapped her up under it's arm. She could feel the tight muscle structure around her, and then it spoke. It was a deep gravely voice that had enough of an impact to make her involuntarily shudder.

"Kidnapping? Hammerhead really, I thought you were one of Bulba's favorites. Surely you should be getting better jobs then this?"

The smoke was thinning and Hammerhead could be seen vaguely getting clumsily to his feet.

"Who the hell… oh yer gunna pay fer dat mac!" Spewed the thug feeling his sore jawbone.

Darkwing smirked and prepared to wow Ms. Zombie Slayer Waddlemyer with one of his favorite speeches when he got winded by an elbow to the stomach. She squirmed furiously hitting every inch of him she could reach, her fists mainly connected with his already anguished legs.

"What the hell are you doing!"

"Put me down you scumbag or I'll pummel you into pudding!" she roared.

The screen of smoke was now gone and Hammerhead was on his feet and looking less than pleased.

"Ms. Waddlemyer, would you _please_ refrain from attacking me while I am saving your hide!" He used his spare hand to grab one of her fists.

"Yeah well who said I needed saving?" she scowled up at him.

If he wasn't in caped crusader mode his jaw would have dropped. He didn't get to respond to her however, it seemed Hammerhead was waiting for the opportune moment to strike. He charged at them his head bowed and prepped to smash Darkwing with his massive horns. Dark dodge rolled to the side with a squeak from Gosalyn. Hammerhead slammed into a tree and a shower of leaves rained down from its gnarly branches. He heard her gasp, her big green eyes were upon him.

"Who are you?" She said softly and he thought he heard a note of awe in her voice. He released her, stood up tall, and draped his cape about him.

"I am…ugh!" He had let his guard down, taken his eyes off of Hammerhead, and as a result was rammed by a thick pair of horns. Dark hit the ground hard and heard a sickening crack come from under his skin. He kicked up and almost got another face full of horns. He turned to face the ram and drew his gas gun.

"Alright Hannigan," he wheezed, "… playtimes over."

He didn't see it, and had no time to react. He heard Gosalyn scream and felt a thick vine bash into his skull. He felt the damp soil on his face, smelt the grass, and then felt the pain. Dazed he regained his vision; Hannigan was six feet away suspended in mid air by … a tree? Dark tried to push himself off his stomach when a smothering, crippling force collided with his spine crushing him, face first into the dirt. He struggled fruitlessly to escape his attacker, and turned his eyes up. How? How could this be? He looked up at the form of a massive tree it's hulking roots still swarming over him forcing him into the ground. That's when he heard it; a voice came from the tree holding Hammerhead, whose face was the epitome of terror.

"Surprised to see me Hammerhead? I'm sure you are…"

Through his blinding pain Dark could swear the tree not only talked but also resembled a duck.

"R..Reggie! Y..ya can't be!" The seething vines strangled the usually loud and obnoxious ram.

Darkwing could see his gun lying just out of his reach, not that he knew what he would do if he did have it.

"Darkwing Duck!" cried a voice to his right, he could see Gosalyn running toward him.

Despite his predicament he felt a surge of pride, the kid was bright all right. She had figured his identity out on her own.

"Ms. Waddlemyer get me my gun!" he groaned. The roots were becoming unbearable, he didn't know how much longer he could last like this. Gosalyn scooped up the gun just in time to be encircled in vines.

"What do you think you're doing?" barked the tree creature. It was lumbering over to Gosalyn, leaving Hannigan flailing in the clutches of a Douglass Fir. "My business is not with you fools but if this is how you are going to behave then you leave me no choice." The duck tree was now beside Gosalyn, Dark felt a wave of rage take him.

"You leave her out of this you demented pile of woodchips!"

The creature turned it's blue eyes to him. He could imagine how feeble he looked being crushed by the roots of a tree, hardly anything to afraid. The creature on the other hand didn't seem to notice him at all. He spoke more to the air than to the masked mallard.

"You are in no position to tell me, the mighty Bushroot, what I should and should not do. For you, my friend, are to become the world's most over dressed fertilizer." He laughed.

Gosalyn chose that time to throw the gun to Darkwing, in an instant there was a burst of smoke and a searing scream only Bushroot could hear. The girl in his vines was squirming and struggling, he tightened his grip. He'd have to deal with this meddler first.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night… I am the unblinking eyes of justice…I am the protector of the innocent… I am Darkwing Duck!" The smoke cleared to reveal the roots that had held him were hacked off. Bushroot's head rang with painful sobbing, but that was over powered by what the vigilante had just said. '_Protector of the innocent? Where were you when I needed a savior?'_, screamed his brain. He turned and faced the short caped mallard who had managed to speed behind him. The words built up and flooded to his mouth were interrupted by a gunshot.

Darkwing jumped back and the bullet grazed his abs. He snarled at the bullet's origin found that masses of S.H.U.S.H. agents were swarming them from all angles. Another shot was fired and Darkwing had to lean forward to dodge it. Why were they attacking him! The freak over there was the bad guy!

"Darkwink Duck! Surrender de gurl!" Growled the amplified voice of Grizlikof.

Gosalyn saw the look of confusion on her captor's face and in a desperate attempt jammed her fingers in his eyes. He dropped her immediately and she was running before she hit the ground. S.H.U.S.H. was moving in on all sides, Dark could even hear them stumbling through the woods. To his surprise the next thing he felt was a pair of arms lock onto his waist. Stunned he looked down into a pair of emerald eyes.

"Let's go! Before it's too late! C'mon Darkwing!"

Dark looked back to Bushroot but he had gone, as did Hammerhead, there was no choice he'd have to take her. So in a third poof of smoke they disappeared, leaving a fuming Grizlikof in their wake.

Darkwing Duck and all related Characters are © Disney

This story is © Christina Smith

I Live! Ahh what happened to frequent posts?Xo To make up for the half year absence how about a long post and some good news? I have the entire story finished (finally) I plan to get it all up more sooner than later. Thanks to everyone who have commented and here's hoping your not disappointed.


	7. Memories and Mean Streaks

Roots of Revenge

-Chapter 7-

Memories and Mean Streaks

Launchpad was alone in the tower, the gurney squeaked out from under the Thunderquack. He knew that a drop of oil would get rid of the squeak but in his mind gurneys were meant to squeak. He wiped his hands on his already oil spotted pants. He had just banged out all the bullet dings and reapplied touch ups on the paint job erasing the evidence of the jet's encounter with S.H.U.S.H. He cleaned the excess paint off his hands with a rag and looked around Darkwing's secret headquarters. The city lights hazed up the night sky outside the tall windows. DW was out there somewhere doing what he did best. No doubt saving someone else's life. His mind wandered into the past, had it really only been a year since he had started coming here? It felt like longer. Not that he minded of course, Darkwing was his closest friend; he owed him everything, including his life. It was the second time had had thought about that today… he leaned on the Thunderquack's wing as he sank back into his memories.

He was new to St. Canard then, down on his luck, and in short supply of funds. Leaving Duckburg wasn't something he planned on doing but he couldn't stay. He had worked for one of the wealthiest ducks in the world as a pilot. Helped to indulge him in all his eccentric antics, along with his triplet nephews. There he was a hero and role model to them, how inappropriate, he thought bitterly. The boys would confide in him, and include him in their harebrained ideas. He loved those boys like they were his own flesh and blood; he didn't know that those days were numbered. He had taken them out so many times in his plane; he had learned to trust it, that was his mistake. The crash that followed claimed a young life, and he could not bear to face the family he had come to cherish as his own after what had happened. He knew they didn't blame him, but he couldn't stand the guilt. So he left. Came to this place, where no one knew him, were he was among the tainted, and quickly became lost. Lost not only in the crowds also who he was, he was no longer the innocent and happy man he had been in Duckburg. He had killed a child, held him as he died, and it nearly killed him. Excessive drinking and unprovoked brawls were his nightly routine. It was one of those nights a year ago. He was more intoxicated than usual, a bumbling fool dragging his feet through dark alleys. He would often sleep wherever he passed out back then and was looking for an out of the place corner, and perhaps another fight? He couldn't really remember, but he could not forget the scene he found. A group of thugs had cornered a woman and were assaulting her; with out second thought he slugged the closest one and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. That night he was shown exactly how dangerous and out of control the city was as the thug pulled back the hammer. Also that night he was introduced to the masked mallard that fought the very city itself, like a torpedo he fell from the rooftop and took them out. Not just fighting them off but destroying them, screams from broken arms and legs rang up the cramped alley. When his battle was won the hero turned to him, the ice blue eyes searing him from a mass of black. He couldn't remember what he said to Darkwing but it made him laugh, and it took some time but he eventually edged his way into his service. The roar of an engine tore him away from himself.

An explosion wiped his past from his thoughts, the woods! He couldn't forget to tell Darkwing about the woods! When he arrived at the Ratcatcher's parking spot DW was just hobbling off the motorcycle.

"Gee Deedoubleyuh ya don't look so good…"

"Thanks LP… always an inspiration," Grumbled Dark's gravely voice. There was something in the sidecar something rather large and much to his surprise he realized what it was.

"A kid?"

"That's right Launchpad a kid." He picked up a crumpled blue hat and tossed it to Launchpad. Darkwing picked up the limp little girl and walked past him.

"Is she alright?" he walked after him. He held the hat tight in his hand it brought back memories of Dewey, he had to fight not to get lost in his memories again.

"I had to gas her so she wouldn't know the way to the hideout."

"I dunno if she wakes up I think she won't have much trouble figuring out where we are…"

Darkwing placed the girl down on a forgotten bed. He couldn't remember the last time he had a chance to sleep, let alone sleep in this bed. His head was throbbing and his body screaming.

"Your right LP," he sighed as he took off his cape. "But she won't know how to get up here."

"I suppose. Who is she?"

Darkwing threw his hat into a corner and sat at the foot of the bed rubbing his eyes. She took up a lot of room for a little girl.

"Gosalyn Waddlemyer, I think she's the granddaughter of the famous Dr. Waddlemyer, the one who would make S.H.U.S.H. new weapons."

"Why'd you bring her here?" Launchpad knew he must be annoying him with all these questions but it was just so unlike Darkwing. Dark raised his eyes to the barrel chested bird.

"Because she was in trouble… I know what I'm doing… I think." He fought a yawn. "Bulba wants her for a reason and she's not leaving until I get to talk to her about it."

Out of nowhere a high-topped sneaker swung at his head, he swiftly craned backwards and missed the chance to worsen his headache. She rolled off the bed and popped up on her feet quickly, she had a scowl on her face.

"Alright nobody move! I'm not getting kidnapped by anyone tonight; I don't care who it is! You better bring me back there or S.H.U.S.H. will be all over you like a zombie on Einstein!"

"Kidnapped!" shrieked Darkwing. This kid was too much! "I'll have you know you would be with Taurus Bulba right now if I hadn't jumped in when I did!"

"No way Jose! Haven't you figured it out yet? The whole thing was a set up! I was supposed to go with Hammerhead because S.H.U.S.H. has a tracking device on me! Now they're coming for you stupid! " She crossed her arms.

"You mean they _had_ a tracking device on you." Corrected Darkwing.

"Noo, it's right here in my…" she reached snottily to her head for her hat but only gripped hair. Darkwing smirked and nodded to Launchpad who still had the hat. He tossed the baseball cap to DW, and Dark waved it in her face.

"I put it on some mutt on our way here. Now who's stupid, hmm?" She glared at him and snatched the hat away.

"Careful, she's a real firecracker Deedoubleyuh," Launchpad chimed in.

"Who are you his butler? Or are you his side kick Lummox Lad?" She spat.

"Actually… he's my mechanic, now if your done throwing a fit I think it's time you and I had a little chat." Darkwing stared her down but she held her ground. She was the most stubborn person he had ever met, let alone saved. He secretly admitted that was why he liked her; she was a challenge and unpredictable. Two characteristics he associated with himself.

"Oh! Deedoubleyuh, I got something to tell you! Something weird was goin' on in the woods this afternoon.."

"LP this is not the time…." His eyes flashed and the broke the stare with Gosalyn, "…the woods?"

He stood up and looked off into nothingness.

"What _was_ the deal with that tree-duck back there….?"

"Bushroot he said his name was." Piped in Gosalyn. "I didn't know if you picked it up when you were squirming on the ground like a worm."

He gave her an evil glare. "You have got some nerve kid. I saved your ass tonight and you know it. You seemed to be aware of that when you clung to my waist and begged me to rescue you."

Her face feathers stood on end. "_I did not beg_! And if you've forgotten _I _was the one that got your wussy gun back and saved your sorry ass from getting turned into topsoil!"

"Are you always this charming Ms. Waddlemyer?" He shook his head still glowering at her. She sneered in response.

"Maybe you'll be more cooperative in the morning." He huffed. "So you best go to sleep now or I'll use my 'wussy gun' on you again." Her smirk faded, and he pointed strictly at her. "And don't even think about sneaking out. There are fail safes and security measures to handle any kind of escape." He turned on his heel and stormed off.

Gosalyn narrowed her eyes at him until he disappeared up a high ladder. She then turned the look onto the confused Launchpad .

"You gunna guard me or something?" snarled the little girl. He shrugged.

"Nah, he was right about the security, ya better get some sleep kiddo. It sounds like you've had a rough night." He calmly responded.

"Yeah right as if I could sleep in this dump." She puffed and sat down angrily on the bed.

"Now you're probably more tired then you think." Launchpad was once again reminded of the boys and decided to end the conversation there. He also didn't want her to start asking him questions he wouldn't know how to answer.

She heard his big clunky feet wander off to another part of the tower. From her pant pocket she drew a crinkled photograph. She sighed heavily as she looked down at her younger joy filled self clinging happily to her Grandfather. His eyes looked up at her crinkled at the sides from the big smile that was captured forever on his face.

Darkwing Duck and all related Characters are (c) Disney

This story is (c) Christina Smith

----------------------------

Ah sorry about the lack of updates... I have no excuses ; But I'm nearing the end of the second installment so I'm hoping to get this one up as soon as I can. Thanks to all who have reveiwed in my absence your support is my inspiration.


	8. Prison Cells and Promises

**Roots of Revenge**

Prison Cells and Promises

Tonight the misery of his body was out weighed by the heaviness of his heart. They had lost patience with him and now they were after her. Jonah Waddlemyer put his head in his shaking arthritic hands. That monster Bulba had probably sent Hannigan to fetch his granddaughter. He closed his eyes and blocked out the cold damp cell in which they held him in on "uncooperative" nights. He shut himself away from the aching of his empty stomach, his heavy conscious, the pain of this old body, and thought of her.

He was not much of a religious man… he always banked in science but lately he'd been praying as if he were a priest. She was all he cared about, and he could do nothing to protect her. If God was real he would have to help the innocent child from the grim fate that sped toward her… wouldn't he? So he prayed. This night he wished nothing more than someone to keep her from their grasp. Someone to care for her and to shelter the flame of her spirit from the cruel wind of this evil world. Someone was clanging on the bars of the cell and he was forced to abandon Gosalyn once again. The bright red of the bull's suit glowed like the eyes of a demon in this dungeon, and it's owner was sneering.

"Gud evenink Professor, eets time to go bak to vork. Yoo wouldn't vant your dear Goesahleen to join us and see how sluggish you haf been." He let out an evil chuckle.

"Please Mr. Bulba, leave my granddaughter alone, she has nothing to do with this!" Waddlemyer pleaded, he could feel the tears forming in his eyes.

"Now, now Jonah… do not be afraid! She will be treated as generously as you have been…" The bull turned laughing to himself and two henchman pulled Waddlemyer from his prison.

"Please…," he silently pleaded. "…someone protect her."

Darkwing had fallen asleep sitting in front of what he liked to call his "crime lab" computer. He had access to thousands of files encrypted and not, from this very chair. He had verified that Gosalyn certainly was Professor Jonah Waddlemyer, former inventor for S.H.U.S.H.'s granddaughter and only living relative. He had supposedly died in a lab fire ten months ago, but no body had been found, an investigation was still in progress and for the most part most believed he was dead. However former friend and partner J. Gander Hooter , now head of operations at S.H.U.S.H. was not so easily convinced. He currently was on a full scale investigation to find his comrade. Darkwing couldn't help but question the methods the veteran had used to try and lure Bulba to reveal his hostage's location. Gosalyn was a person after all… not a lure. After reading up on the girl's deceased parents , Angus Waddlemyer (deceased two years and five months mugged and murdered in back alley of St. Canard.) and Regina (died two years ago of traumatic depression), he went on to research any thing he could by the name 'Bushroot'. He found a small number of files on a Reginald Bushroot who worked out of a Glomgold incorporated owned research facility a few miles south of the city. He was a botanist who was researching a growth formula for plant life. He barely skimmed the first five pages before his exhaustion caught up with him. He fell asleep quite awkwardly in the swiveling chair and dreamt that dream.

It always started the same, he was alone in the dark with blood coating his hands. A blinding flash of white dazed him and he was surrounded by people, no giants, dressed in white. They were entirely too tall, and in perfect unison they pointed to a bright opened doorway. He obediently approached it and as he looked in through the frame there was a never-ending hallway. Blindingly white, yet dark and twisted. He passed through the frame and slowly trudged along the passage the blood dripping off his fingers, leaving a blood stained trail behind him. Doors lined the walls and there were small barred openings at the "giant's " eye level, also small sliding panels were queued up along the bottoms of the doors. This was an asylum. Voices shouted out at him as he passed, screaming, crying, ranting, some even harshly tearing him apart. Tonight a new voice joined the repertoire, J. Gander growled at him through the darkness behind the door, questioning his lifestyle and his sanity. A door stood ajar before him… a blood-red darkness shadowed the padded cell. Before he wanted to he was pushed inside and barricaded in tightly. He tried to call the white coated giants back… tried to tell him they made a mistake when he felt the eyes burning him. He wasn't alone in here. Another mallard stood behind him, lurking in the shadows and holding up his bloody hands. Drake backed into the padded door, trying to distance himself from this person. This duck then raised his blood soaked hands to his bill and licked them. A shiver ran all through him, and the monster opened his mouth to speak. What came out was a shrill siren that jolted him awake.

Lights were flashing and the alarm was shrieking. Darkwing covered his ears wincing and stood up from his computer.

"I told her not to try and leave." He grumbled as he punched the silencer button on the control panel before him.

He proceeded down the ladder and headed to the bay entrance. He was not at all surprised to see her hanging from the ceiling in a net. She struggled madly and he stood below her crossing his arms.

"What did I tell you?" he called up to her.

She ignored him. He sighed and slid the hidden panel on the wall, revealing a small switch. He glanced up at her wondering if perhaps she shouldn't stay up there for the remainder of the night. Ultimately he flipped the switch and the trap slowly lowered her to the floor, where she squirmed her way free.

"May I be so bold as to ask why you are bent on leaving my protection Ms. Waddlemyer?"

"Because, I need to save my grandpa!" she snarled as she kicked the net bitterly for good measure.

"And you think you can do this alone? In the earliest hours of the morning?"

Her eyes fell upon him and he saw the desperate little girl inside the tough exterior stare back at him.

"I have to try."

"Listen… I know you want to help him, but rushing out there is not a good idea." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "And I also know that sleep is something that will help you clear your head. You can go home tomorrow but for now you stay put all right?"

"Darkwing?" she asked softly.

He was taken back in surprise by her sudden change of tone, and looked at her. Her eyes were turned to the floor and she was wringing her hands together.

"I… I'm sorry I've been a horrible brat… but… can you help me? Please help me get him back…" she sounded on the verge of tears.

"Hey…" he put his hand on her shoulder. "Of course I will… it's what I do." She sniffed loudly. "But first I think we both need to get some sleep, am I right?"

"D… do you think you could sit with me until I fall asleep?" she asked sounding thoroughly embarrassed.

"…Sure."

She walked past him and made her way back to the bed. She threw the covers over her head and curled up in a ball facing away from him. He sat on the end of the bed. He'd have to say something… damn it. He never was very good with talking to kids.

"You think my Grandpa is still alive?" said the mound under the blankets. "You don't think they'd hurt him because of what happened today, do you?" Her voice cracked towards the end of her question and she tried in vain to hide it.

"I'm sure he's alive Ms. Waddlemyer. He's too important for them to hurt him." It wasn't much of a consolation, but it was the best he had.

"Why do they have him anyway? Why'd they do this to us?" She hopelessly asked as she curled into a full fetal position.

His heart sank at the sound of her voice, he wasn't sure what to tell her. He was positive Bulba was using Waddlemyer's genius to construct something terrible, and getting Gosalyn would only quicken that progress. She must know that as well? Or was the question aimed more at one of the most shady areas, morals? Bulba had taken away her life with out a second glance, now he's back to steal her away as a morbid source of motivation.

He patted her leg comfortingly.

"Don't worry Gos…. Everything will be all right. We'll get him back."

She peeked out from under her fabric cocoon.

"You really are going to help me aren't you?"

"I wouldn't be much of a hero if I didn't aid a damsel in distress." He smiled softly.

"Who are you calling a damsel in distress!" She playfully huffed.

"Oh begging your pardon, perhaps a lady with as much spunk as yourself would be in better hands with Gizmoduck?" He testily snorted.

"What? That rolling Swiss Army knife? You could take him out in a heart beat!" She punched the air and was wearing an enthusiastic smile.

"Oh you think so?" He smirked.

"Are you kiddin'! After what you did in the park you could take out two Gizmoducks! Are all your days this exciting?" Her eyes twinkled.

"Not at all… sometimes I just sleep." It was only after he said the word that he realized just how truly exhausted he was.

"Sleep?" She repeated disappointed. "But I thought crime never sleeps! You should be there to strike it down with your formidable fists of fury!" She slammed her right fist into her left palm.

"I'm there to 'strike down' the stuff that goes over the police's heads. And besides what good is a tired champion of justice?" he stifled a yawn.

"I suppose." She mumbled as she laid back into the pillow, her eyes closed as she did so. "Darkwing?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I really have to go back to the Orphanage tomorrow? I mean can't I stay here with you? "

"Stay here? No, I don't think that would be wise."

"C'mon I could be your sidekick!"

He laughed. Gosalyn smiled brightly, he had a good laugh. It was happy and reminded her of her Grandfather.

"Sidekick? No. Sorry young lady but the best thing for everyone would be for you to return to the Orphanage." He watched her eyes look away sadly.

"I hate it there. Today was adoption day, you have no idea what it's like to have everyone push you aside to spend time with 'decent' children. To have all your friends taken away to homes where they'll be loved." She spoke bitterly but choked on the last word.

"Yes I do."

Her eyes shot up to him faster than the crack of a whip. He was no longer facing her, his eyes were shut and he was slouched over slightly.

"Were you an orphan too?"

"For most of my life." His eyes opened and were warmer than they had ever been since she met him. "I know what it's like to be alone Gosalyn, to remain in a state of numbness just to pass the days. I grew too old to remain under the city's care and they pushed me out." He waved his hand and glanced at her. "I can't blame you for not wanting to go back but we both know you have to. We're not going to find your Grandfather if you're hiding up here." She nodded in agreement. " Good. So bright and early I'll… uh 'UN-kidnap' you, sound good?"

"You won't forget about helping me find Grandpa will you?"

"Hey I'm not so old that my mind is mush, besides I'm sure you'd track me down and knock my light's out if I did. And it's something I've learned not to break promises to people who have as much spirit as you have." He tapped her beak gently. In an instant she caught him by surprise, quickly hugged him and kissed his feathered cheek.

"Thank you Darkwing!" She whispered as she lay back down and settled in once more.

"Uh.. don't mention it." He rubbed his cheek still a bit shocked.

There was a sudden change in her breathing that told him she had fallen asleep. He chuckled and wearily got up. He wasn't sure how, but this little girl he had met not twenty four hours ago had successfully torn down every defense he had built to keep people out of his life. Launchpad was the only other person who had accomplished this feat, and she broke in at record time. She was something else alright. He hated to admit it, but he'd miss her when he took her "home". He'd make it right, he vowed to himself as he started to climb back up the ladder again. He'd set everything right, her grandfather was alive and she'd have a family again… he'd make sure of it.

Darkwing duck and all related characters are (c) Disney This story is (c) Christina Smith --------------- Argh. My happy little PC is dead, and I had to type this up on the family mac... which doesn't have Word Perfect.. so I had to alter EVERYTHING manually... so I apologise if there are rouge html stuffs or if spacing is off (like the title), along with puncuation marks.. for some reason all the question marks when MIA I think I got them all but... le sigh. In other news... the second installment is finished, and I'm already hard at work on numbah 3. So If I must I will continue typing on this god awful mac, but I swear I will get this story up in it's entirety BEFORE the end of the year aggh.. Sorry I've neglected ya'll and thanks for your support. 


	9. Reluctant Compliance

Roots of Revenge

-Chapter 9-

Reluctant Compliance

The sun was still hours away. The city was quiet, the night owls were sure to steer clear of St. Canard central park knowing that S.H.U.S.H. had roped the entire thing off. They were still over turning every leaf and stone trying to find even a tiniest trace of a clue. Somehow they had lost Hammerhead Hannigan, Darkwing Duck, and worst of all Ms. Waddlemyer, who they knew to be in the clutches of Darkwing Duck. He had disappeared right in front of their eyes, leaving nothing to even hint at where they had gone. The tracking device they had planted on the child was found a half an hour ago on a scraggly stray with a foul mean streak. Hammerhead snuck away during Darkwing's dramatic exit. Grizzlicoff leered around the uncooperative foliage. This was turning from bad to horrendous before he could even blink. He wanted nothing more than to wring the necks of the two lawless fiends that broke his perfect plan. Hooter was certain they would find nothing to lead them to Darkwing, claimed he was too clever for that. Grizzli couldn't help but notice the smile that had been on his boss's face as he said that. Surely Hooter wasn't _that_ impressed with this vigilante… was he? The very thought made his blood boil, why should this idiot get praise from the head of S.H.U.S.H. when he has done nothing but make their lives hell? He scratched his massive claws viciously across a nearby tree in retaliation. There was nothing this costumed buffoon could do that he couldn't! A raised root caught his foot and he stumbled. In a wave of immature rage he turned to his attacker and tore off a branch. He looked down at the roots and saw they were all raised, with a glance around it seemed all the trees were frozen in the middle of uprooting themselves. He scratched his head with the severed branch, just what the hell really happened here?

Halfway across the city in a dark alley Hammerhead sat with his back to a slimey brick wall. He tried to recover his wits and his breath, not to mention calm the pounding of his heart. It was no easy task, especially after being mauled by a tree doppelganger of a dead man and running around the city in a suit and dress shoes. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped up his soaked forehead. Had it really happened? Was that _thing _really Bushroot? No. No it couldn't have been, he must have imagined it. But, the kid and that caped goon had seen it too. Was it real? A shrill ringing sang from his pant pocket and scared him out of his skin. He slowly pulled out the phone and carefully answered it.

"Hammerhead where are you? Mr. Bulba is not pleased." Said Clovis, Bulba's personal assistant, without waiting for a hello.

"Ah… I kinda hit a snag. Tell the boss I'll head over and give him a full report in a half hour. Oh and Angel Face could you make sure Hoof and Mouth meet me in the lobby I gotta tell 'em something." He stood up brushing himself off and regaining his composure.

"…" Clovis cleared her throat. "Hammerhead, Hoof and Mouth aren't here. I've been trying to contact them all night. There has been no answer at either of their apartments."

He sighed. "Make it an hour then."

"Understood."

He hung up, straightened his jacket and went to catch a cab.

The Glomgold Botanical Research Facility was practically deserted. The staff had gone home early due to the investigations and the police search had shut down most of the laboratories. The janitors had finished their rounds and left as well. There was only night security and one other still on the premises. In the late Reginald Bushroot's office Rhoda was pouring over every notebook and file she could find. Her usually silky brown hair was greasy and slicked back into a tight bun, her face was a mess of melted make up that was etched with the tracks of tears. The bookshelves in the office had been emptied in the search, their contents placed all over the barely visible floor. She sat in the middle of the room closely deciphering Reggie's chicken scratch handwriting. There must be something… there had to be something, _anything_ she could find to help return him to how… and who he was. She involuntarily shuddered. That creature was Reggie and wasn't at the same time. There was a struggle going on inside him between the morals of Reggie and the anger of "Bushroot". She had witnessed two murders at the hands of "Bushroot" and she knew, with a sour churn of her stomach, that it was only beginning. He had recognized her and wouldn't hurt her for now, but how long did she have until he would no longer preserve her? She needed to find something to get Reggie to leave "Bushroot" behind. He was still alive and conscious most of the time; she couldn't just let him stay the way he was. She had been searching his notes and reports for hours now, ever since she had last seen him. She tried not to cry again at the thought of him, she just wished her tear ducts would dry out already so she wouldn't waste anymore time sobbing. She had to save him, had to get him back before he killed again.

The dawning sun peeked through the smog and skyscrapers, cheerful and oblivious to the sinister workings that were conducted during the stay of her nocturnal partner. Hammerhead scrambled into the waiting room of Taurus Bulba's office at five fifty-three am. His suit was torn, his face pale and gaunt. His usually pristine shoes were caked in dried blood. There were matching splotches on his suit, face, and hands. Clovis stood and shrieked at the sight of him. His eyes dully focused on her there was a disconnected look about him.

"Sorry I'm late." He bitterly chuckled.

She had no response; all she could manage to do was buzz him into the office. He stumbled over his own feet as he marched into position in front of the desk. It took him a moment to notice the chair before him was empty.

"Vhat de hell happened to yoo?" Came a voice from behind him.

Hammerhead turned and saw the bull, twice his height and weight in muscle. Bulba returned a book he held in his massive hand to it's place on the shelf he had been looking at. Hammerhead closed his eyes remorsefully.

"Boss... I screwed up big time."

"Aparentlee."

"Hoof… and Mouth…dey're dead."

"Vhat?"

"Murdered. Found 'em myself. Barely recognized them…" he cringed recalling his friends' corpses torn to pieces by gnarled vines that looked to have sprouted from the very walls of their homes.

"By who?" Bulba's voice was unsettlingly calm.

"….Reggie Bushroot."

"Vhat?" There was a definite tone of anger in his booming voice.

"I know its crazy Boss! But he's back he's like a… like a tree or something he killed them. I only just got away from him myself!"

"So he's alife."

"He'll be wantin' me next." He shivered as those eyes crept back into his mind.

"Kin you blame him?"

"Boss…" Hammerhead miserably opened his eyes and looked Bulba in his glassy brown eyes.

"Eet ees unfortunate of course to hear about your comrades. However, ze Doktor's revival is quite remarkable. Perhaps it is due to his precious serum?"  
"Boss don't make me go back out dere I'm beggin ya! He's got it out for me I got away once I don't know if I'll be so lucky next time."

"Stop snivelink." Snarled the bull. "Yoo still haf a job to do. Waddlemyer's niece ees not in my possession. I vant ze girl today Hammerhead. Or your leetle plant friend will seem like a pleasant tea partner compared to vhat I vill do to you. Understand?"

The ram closed his eyes again.

"Yes sir."

Darkwing Duck and all Related Characters are © Disney

This story is © Christina Smith 2005

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Agh.. a tiny update but I intend to upload more tomorrow. Thanks for stickin with me guys.


	10. Abduction

Roots of Revenge

-Chapter Ten-

Abduction

Gosalyn stirred and pulled the covers up under her bill. She didn't want to open her eyes in fear that her adventure had only been a dream. Drake was right. Darkwing was incredible. Drake? That's right! She had promised to go see him today! She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the ceiling of her room in the orphanage. She groaned and sat up. She shared a bunk with a girl named Rosie and judging by the silence, not to mention the stripped down bed, she had been adopted yesterday. With a sigh she threw the covers off herself, and looked down at her jeans. She was wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday. Her heart leapt as she raised the collar of her shirt to her nose and inhaled. It had a heavy smoky smell that almost made her gag. She smiled. She had met him. She had met Darkwing Duck and his…. mechanic. He was going to help her find her grandfather. She hopped out of the bed and ripped open her dresser drawer. Drake will be so jealous!

Launchpad had stayed late to finish the repairs on the Thunderquack and left an hour before sunrise. Darkwing had to commend how diligent the duck was… at least he got to catch up on some sleep as Drake Mallard during the day but Launchpad didn't have that luxury. He had some time alone in the tower and taken advantage of the quiet while it lasted. He read up on the seemingly uninteresting Reginald Bushroot, there was nothing to lead him to why the man had attacked them and what exactly he was. Though just seeing the pictures of the doctor he was certainly able to recognize the man behind the bark. It had been a few hours since he had taken the comatose little girl back to her room at the orphanage. It was a cozy sort of place, lived in, but still emotionally empty. He had only a few minutes to look around before he had to duck out due to the matron's appearance. It would be the last night she'd have to stay there if he had anything to do with it. He knew Waddlemyer was locked up somewhere in a plain looking unmarked building in the throng of the city. It's like they said the best hiding place is in plain sight, and Bulba would be cocky enough to try it. Hammerhead and his boss were most likely in there as well, Dark figured good old Taurus wouldn't want his prize too far from him at all times. He wanted Jonah right under his finger at every moment. Chances were Bulba was being filled in on the events of last night at this very moment. Bushroot was bent on getting Hammerhead, and he was only able to guess why. Now he had no idea where that one was, the creepy mutated botanist could easily blend in anywhere. There would be time to settle things with Bushroot later; he would devise a plan to get Jonah back today. But he was in desperate need of some sleep before he could do anything else.

Twenty minutes later Drake Mallard slept slouched onto the desk in the always quiet scrapyard's office. He hadn't truly slept in days and apparently today was no exception. He stirred slightly the white walls in his mind closing in around him; he could feel a pair of eyes upon him. The asylum faded and he felt the person moving towards him… an attack? The wrist he habitually snatched was small and soft. Wearily he opened an eye and watched Gosalyn dance into focus.

"Whoa you look terrible." She said with a playful smirk.

He responded with a groan and sat up clutching his aching head. His whole body hurt and his head was pounding angrily. He was not expecting to see her again so soon, in fact he was a bit embarrassed how pleased he was to see her.

"Whaddya sleeping off a bender?" She sat on a near by cardboard box.

"I wish." He grumbled. " What are you doing here?" He glanced at the clock.

"Duh. I told you I'd come by today and guess what!" Her eyes twinkled.

"What?" he blinked the searing pain out of his sleep deprived eyes.

"I met Darkwing Duck last night! He saved me!" She grinned.

"Oh?" he smiled. "Is that why you didn't bring that Gizmoduck scrapbook you mentioned?" She didn't speak but nodded excitedly. "So was he cooler than that overgrown steel sided boy scout or what?" He had only gotten a half hour's worth of sleep.

"Oh man Drake he was so awesome! He had this kickin' motorcycle and a gun that exploded all this smoke and stuff all over the place! And he was all like Ducky Chan with the punches and the jumps! He was like doing triple flips all over the place kicking off walls!"

He tried not to laugh at her gross exaggerations. "Cool." He smiled as he leaned back into his chair.

"And he had this crazy fight with the thug Hammerhead Hannigan! And this wicked tree guy! It was amazing!"

"Wish I had been there to see that."

"Oh it was incredible." She beamed. "He took me back to his secret headquarters and showed me some of his security traps. And I got to meet his big beefy side-kick…"

"He's just a mechanic." He absently corrected her.

"What?" Her eyes locked on him suspiciously.

"That's what I heard anyway, he's Darkwing's mechanic." He didn't flinch at his stupid slip.

"Heard it from who?" Her eyes were fixed on him in a prying sort of interrogation of their own.

"From eyewitnesses okay? I have been interested in him a lot longer than you have. There have been a few articles that mentioned similar sightings of a burly guy, pretty grease monkey looking." He didn't break eye contact. She squinted at him and put her hands on her hips.

"All right I guess that makes sense." She let her gaze slide onto the desk. He closed his eyes with an exhausted sigh. He heard her shift on her perch.

"Well, in other news… " She stated sadly, "…my bunk mate has gone off to a loving home."

"Don't worry about it." He yawned. "I'm sure you'll get adopted soon don't waste your strength getting all depressed." Damn! He was so mad he could have hit himself! Only Darkwing knew she was an orphan not Drake. He opened his eyes and saw her gaze upon him with a brilliant smile.

"He's you?" The smile widened.

"What are you talking about now?" He tried to cover his tracks but she wouldn't let him.

"You're not his fan! You ARE him! It all makes sense now! Your eyes give you away!" She said triumphantly. "I can't believe it! I got you! That was easy." She added smugly.

"If I had been allowed to sleep properly..." he began to fume.

"Aha! So you admit it!"

He groaned and put a hand over his eyes. She quickly got up and hopped up on the corner of the desk near him. He peered at her through his fingers, she was smiling so wide it looked like her head would split in half if it got any wider. Not only had this girl broken down his defenses she had also beat him at his own game. He couldn't help but feel a bit happy to have given her that smile but the price was a bit much more than he had bargained for.

"So I suppose you're real happy now are you?" He spat.

"Oh you bet! Though I do feel goofy about gushing like that…" a twinge of red appeared on her cheeks.

"Triple flips? Kicking off walls? I must have been elsewhere when that happened." He shook his head.

"Don't worry 'Drake' your secret is safe with me I swear!" She winked at him.

An earsplitting sound tore through the office. It sounded like a car slamming through the front gate of the yard. Drake shot to his feet and Gosalyn jumped with a surprised shriek. Through the small window, barely visible through the clutter, he could see a massive truck speeding directly toward them. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and threw her into the far corner of the office.

She scrambled out of the heap of empty boxes just in time to see the truck tear into the office. Dust, shrapnel, paper, and pieces of the ceiling rained down in chaotic aftermath. The wounded structure groaned, there was a gaping hole in what had been a wall, it was currently filled with the growling head of a truck. The passenger door swung open and to further her horror Hammerhead lurched through the debris toward her. She screamed and scanned the remains of the room for Drake. The dust and dirt covered everything making it all look like an aged photograph. He was here, she told herself, Darkwing Duck was here with her he would save her again. She finally saw him. He was pinned to the wall behind the desk, planks of wood that had held the roof up had collapsed ontop of him, he looked broken... he wasn't moving. Hammerhead was upon her and she kicked wildly at him tears welling up in her eyes. This wasn't real, it couldn't be! The ram angrily slapped her legs away and yanked her out of the boxes. He slung her over his shoulder and started back to the truck seemingly oblivious to her fists pounding every inch of him she could find. She screamed Drake's name in hopes of rousing him but he just laid there slumped on the desk top practically buried. Hammerhead got her into the truck with a little difficulty, shoved her through the tiny window that led to the cargo area of the truck and slammed it shut. All she could do was stare at her devastated hero as the driver reversed out of the hole.

Jonah Waddlemyer laid his head on the embroidered pillow they had put in his 'cooperative" cell. It must be late, he decided. He felt like he had been up for weeks, and they never let him in on what day or hour it was. His ever watchful wardens didn't want him to have any information they deemed "unnecessary". The worst part was no matter how tired he was he couldn't sleep. His arthritis was acting up and he felt like he wouldn't be able to properly use his hands ever again. He was old, old enough to know how cold the world really was and how cruel the creatures that lived there truly were. And in the entire bitter globe he was smack dab in the freezer. He had constructed a monstrosity for an evil man, a man who had murders after his only living relative. If he was a younger man he might have come up with a plan. Some way to keep Gosalyn safe and rid the world of Taurus Bulba. But he was a loving and concerned grandfather, so he did what they told him. All he could do was pray that some one else did have plan, and that it was currently in motion. Surely his old friend J. Gander would have the initiative to keep her under his watch? Yes. Yes, she must be with S.H.U.S.H. they would never let this madman get her. A shadow fell over him. The source was, of course, his captor.

"Ah my dear Professor let me be the first to congratulate you on the up bringing of this charming leetle girl. Her spirit is certainly commendable."

Jonah sat up and felt his heart sink into his shoes as he saw Goslayn limp in the bull's massive arms.

Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney

This story is © Christina Smith 2005


	11. Side Kicks and Silk Dresses

Roots of Revenge

-Chapter 11-

Side Kicks and Silk Dresses

Drake opened his eyes and was greeted by the oranges and reds of the approaching sunset. He forced the heavy debris off of his back with seething anguish. The desk still pinned him painfully to the wall, the crippling pain made it unbearable to move. Counting at least two broken ribs he forced himself up and attempted to push the desk away to no avail. His arms shook with effort and every inch of his battered body rose against him angrily. Was this it? After all this, was it time to give up? His entire body felt as if it had been tenderized with a mace, leaving bones broken and he didn't even want to think about internal bleeding. At the moment the agony felt like the best reason to give up. He put his head down heavily on the ruined wood desktop. He had failed. Failed as a hero, failed as a friend, failed at everything. No. He'd give it one more try. With an excruciating breath he worked his battered hands along the rim of the desk and gave it a fierce shove. The pain exploded in an uproar and he collapsed. Hot tears tore down his face as his body screamed for relief. So this was it. The end of Darkwing Duck. Pinned to a wall fated to die at the mercy of internal wounds or self granted release. The office was in shambles, the ceiling threatening to fully collapse upon him at any moment, debris showering every square inch of the place. Amid the mess a toppled stack of boxes, crushed by a little girl lay forgotten. Gosalyn, he made her a promise. How could he even think of giving up on her? It was then he noticed the truck had caused a massive box of car parts to collapse in front of the desk. It would be hopeless to try and move it on his own. He would never be able to do it. Realization dawned on him…. It was still on his hip. He had forgotten to leave it at the bay head quarters. He pried the small black box that served as a distress beacon and placed it on the desktop. He stared at it with great hesitation, the beacon would surely reach him but was he ready to reveal himself twice in one day? With a shred of hope and consciousness Drake hit the activation button.

The woods were still pretty quiet today. And he couldn't quite shake the idea that they were thinner too. Like half the trees just up and left in the middle of the night. Launchapd wondered where a whole mess of trees could sneak off too with out a soul seeing them but he decided it was impossible and he went on with his work. His eyes were bothering him with the scratchiness of not sleeping properly. Something just didn't feel right, he sat on the trunk of the expensive sports car he was tuning up. The extra hours he put into working with Darkwing were getting longer and longer recently and running on the bare minimum of energy was something Launchapd didn't really look forward too.

"Hey McQuack!" Jack's voice came from the shop's staff room. "Your uh… keys are glowing."

Glowing? He blinked. GLOWING? He hopped off the car and scrambled into the room. Jack pointed to the blinking green bulb that lit up like a searchlight. It was DW all right, but so early in the day? He turned puzzled to Jack.

"Mr. J do you think it would be okay if I left early? Just this once?"

"Go ahead" Shrugged the black feathered boss. " Quite honestly I wish you would ask more often. You work too…" Jack started but Launchpad hurried out with out a backward glance. "Hey! Is everything okay?"

The blinking box had toppled onto the floor as the mallard trapped behind the desk struggled to get a few more inches between his lungs and his fractured ribs. Gritting his teeth Drake hopelessly attempted to push the desk away. His arms would give out soon and he wasn't sure he could stay awake much longer. An engine rumbled outside and a pair of big feet could be heard running toward the dilapidated building. An unmistakable silhouette appeared in the gaping hole. After all the work he had put into hiding this from this mechanic for it crumble like this was almost too much. Launchpad squinted in to the darkening office and noticed a dusty torso watching him.

"Deedoubleyuh?"

A bitter laugh answered him, which was proof enough in his eyes. He worked his way across the trashed room picking up the beacon as he passed keeping his gaze on the plainly clothed duck.

"So…." Groaned the duck painfully. "What do you think of the mighty Darkwing Duck now Launchpad? Pretty pathetic huh?"

"What happened? It looks like a Mac truck came through here." Launchpad stopped in front of the desk.

"It did."

"Oh." He answered

"I need you to help me LP I can't get out." He shoved the desk again and grunted through gritted teeth.

Launchpad quickly put his brawn to use and swept the clutter aside with tremendous force. With a joint effort they pried the desk away. It scraped loudly across the floor and as soon as it was clear of it's hostage the weary duck who was Darkwing disappeared as he collapsed to the floor. Launchpad stood hesitantly where was, he wasn't quite over the shock of seeing what he really looked like. He couldn't say he was disappointed because he wasn't. It was just odd to know what was hidden behind the mask. And to find out like this, man he must really be hurt. Launchpad carefully moved around the side of the desk and crouched beside the broken figure that sat against the wall drawing painful breaths.

"What happened Deedub.. uh." He trailed off.

"Drake." He kept his eyes to the floor. "Drake Mallard."

"Who did this?" LP's eyes wandered to the gaping hole as more of the structure crumbled in the gaping absence of wall. It was a miracle that he was still alive and that the building hadn't caved in.

"They've got Gosalyn."

By the time Launchpad's eyes had returned to Drake the cold eyes he knew undoubtedly as Darkwing's were waiting for him.

"Hammerhead took her, but even worse she must be in the clutches of Bulba by now. He took her out from right under my nose!" He firmly put a hand on LP's shoulder and managed to stand. Launchpad could see Drake's body fighting him, willing him to crumble but his mind wouldn't let it. Launchpad stood up and Drake looked at him. "Thanks."

"No problemo." He responded numbly. How could he be standing? He was seriously messed up it took the combined effort of both of them just to get him free, and he was standing like nothing had even happened. Drake winced and began to walk, Launchpad cantered after him. "Whoa! Wait! Where are you going?"

"I've got to get her back. I have to set things right, I owe her that much" he responded through clenched teeth.  
"But you can barely walk how can you possibly help her like this?"

"I won't let them hurt her." His knee gave out but he steadied himself before he fell.

"This is crazy! You need medical attention…" Launchpad helped him regain his footing. In response the short mallard sighed. "if you need to do this, then let me help you."

Again the eyes locked on him and Launchpad had an eerie feeling that those eyes could look through him like a pane of glass.

"I can't let you do that."

"Well I'm not going to stand by and watch you kill yourself so you better get use to the idea of having a side-kick." He flared shortly.

Drake laughed lightly but stopped abruptly, it was too painful.

"Alright alright. But you do exactly what I tell you understand?"

"Aye aye."

It was a giant twisted piece of metal, with a rotating, pumping heart of evil made up of gears and clockwork. It was a dark reflective steel that mirrored everything around it and she could see herself, though very small, captured on the surface of the machine. She sat at the window in the decadent room that was provided for her, in a ridiculously frilly, girly dress they had told her to wear. She could see him, her grandfather working on the monster. He looked so tired. But he was alive and in her eyes that made her happy enough not to cry. She clenched her fists full of the silky powder pink fabric that covered her and looked around her room. This place was more designed like a palace than a prison, there was an elegant canopied bed, along with a shiny wooden table that held a crystal cut bowl of plump fruit and a glistening goblet filled with water. She sat in the velvet covered gold accented chair, the lush royal purple carpet had an unnatural softness to it and it traveled underneath a heavy wooden door that locked from the outside, where the armed guard was on constant watch. She trembled and looked back to her grandfather, he was looking at her. She waved and he sadly smiled in response. This was it? She was suppose to sit here in uncomfortable dresses and eat and drink what others picked out for her. It all felt so hopeless, and no one would help them. The only person she could count was dead because of her. If she hadn't gone to see him at the scrap yard maybe Drake would be on his way to rescue her and her grandfather. But she had killed him. Voices started to approach her door, one she picked up immediately as Hammerhead and the other, with it's thick accent and silky confident tone must be Bulba. As they got closer she could just make out their conversation.

"…gotta do something!" Shrieked Hammerhead.

"Relax. I assure yoo nothink can get in zis buidink with out me wantink it too."

"So I'm gunna hide out here forever?"

" No one can get in or out unless I will it too. I believe we shood extend an invitation no?"

"No!" Panicked the uneasy voice. "Are you sayin' you want us to go get the psycho spud and bring him here?"

"Definitely not. What I suggest is that we lure him here. Perhaps yoo know of someone he wood come for…" there was an malicious pause, "…apart from yoorself of course." The voices were almost outside her door now.

"Yeah. I know just tha dame."

"Splendid send a chauffeur to escort her to my humble abode."

"Sure thing boss." Said the miserable voice of Hannigan. A hand began to turn the knob. "Hey boss be careful in there. That kid has a bad temper."

"I vill manage." The door swung open.

The giant bull stood in his bright red suit taking up the entire doorway. She tried not to look at him and kept her focus on the machine. She could feel his eyes on her, his burning gaze made her want to smash that blasted bowl over his damned head. The door clicked as it shut.

"That dress suits yoo Ms. Waddlemyer." His voice was oozing with charm. He approached and joined her gaze out the window, on the machine. "Magnificent isn't it?"

"I think it's disgusting." She grumbled.

"Now be kind. Yoor poor grandfather has worked so hard on eet for me. But now that you mention it…" He feigned a look of deep thought. "Eet is vile. I vill haf to tell him to make another one at your request."

"No! Leave him alone! Don't you think you've done enough?" She glared at him. The corners of his eyes crinkled in an amused smile.

"I suppose I haf. Very well, I vill keep this eye sore en return for all I haf done."

"Why couldn't you have just left us alone?"

"Do you know what that 'disgusting' machine is Ms. Waddlemyer?"

She knew. She had known the moment she had first seen it. She had come in contact with a great deal of her grandfather's ideas and plans plotted out and blue lined over her time with him. But Bulba didn't know that, and anything he didn't know was a plus for her. So she played dumb.

"I know whatever it is it's not good."

"On the contrary Miss, for me eet es veri good. Yoo see eet es called a 'Ramrod', it allows me to lock onto anything I wish and it will bring eet to me. Anythink from gold to people, when eet es finished I vill be a very powerful man indeed."

"Sounds stupid to me."

"My dear, eef the Ramrod had been finished but a few hours ago I needn't haf sent Hammerhead to fetch yoo. I could have used eet to bring yoo here. Ah, eef that had been so maybe yoor friend Mister Mallard wood still be alife." He sneered.

Her fist collided with is snout before he could blink. He clutched his nose and side stepped the fiery red head in silk as she swung at him again spewing obscenities. She appeared to be trying to make her way to anything she could use as a weapon. He grabbed her by the big bow that encircled her waist with a giant hand and yanked her back so hard she fell to the floor, smacking her head against the carpet. She glared up at him tears streaming down her face. His horns blocked out the lamp light, his silhouette was the unnerving, he truly was the devil.

"Yoo better behavf or yoo vill not see yoor grandfather in such good health for much longer." He crouched down and put a firm hand under bill and forced her face towards his. The musky scent of exotic spices and freshly cut wood poured off of him and scarred itself into her brain. "And yoo vill be more gracious to yoor host or I vill give you more reason to hate me." A sick smile curled on his lips.

"Boss!" Cried the guard's voice from the doorway. Bulba removed his grip on her and stormed over to him, slamming the door shut as he went.

"Vhat ees it?" He growled.

Gosalyn sat up and hugged her knees the tears soaking the stupid rotten dress she was trapped in. She strained her ears to hear what news had come her way.

"There has been an unidentified aircraft spotted across St. Canard sir. It's reportedly heading our way. It will probably be here in a few minutes!" Stammered the shaken guard.

"So… he has come for ze gurl, as I suspected. Contact ze others tell them to open fire eef they see so much as a wisp of smoke."

"Yes sir!"

Darkwing? Her heart rose and she wiped her eyes quickly on her arms. Was it true? She rushed to the window. If Darkwing was going to save her grandfather she'd be damned if she was going to miss it.

Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney

This story is © Christina Smith 2005

---------------------------------------------------------------------

See I am finally making progress with my updates! - I hope you guys are enjoying my indulgent re-creation. At this rate you'll be reading the final chapter in this story in about a week, but don't worry (or do worry if you wish I had never started thisstory)I have the second one finished and am planning to upload that one on the same schedule I'm on now. The third is well on it's way though the amount of characters and all the goings on are making my brain hurt. Well that's all for now I hope you all have a happy and safe Thanksgiving!

---Kitty


	12. Daring Rescue

**Roots of Revenge**

-Chapter 12-

Daring Rescue

A whisper ran through the ranks of looming trees. There was something wrong with their master. He was still a sapling but his foliage was turning so quickly. The fresh, lush green leaves were speedily shifting into the oranges and reds of fall. The deep brown that was his bark was grimly loosing it's pigment and becoming a twisted elderly gray. He had mobilized them, awakened them from their quiet vigils and led them to the great patch of soil in the concrete wasteland. His plans were passed onto them and they would obey with out hesitation, he was fixated on his past life and was burning to retaliate against the ones that had hurt him They would wait their turn, they had waited since the first seed was sewn to be given the chance to take back the world, what was a few more days? The Prophet was currently rooted in the center of their protective forest, he was taking in as much nutrients as he could so that he wouldn't need to seek out soil when they next embarked. They had been told they would return to the "Birthplace", the soil where the Prophet had risen and regain some kind of magical liquid from a "woman" there. The Prophet was sure that this life giving moisture would help him stop his rapid aging. After that they would march on the fiends that stood against him. There was a sound like thunder that screamed over their canopies, and the iced over black rivers that littered this wasteland were suddenly occupied by blinding blinking lights that gave chase in great numbers.

The Thunderquack tore through the night sky. Launchpad flew low and weaved skillfully through the buildings, the pilot had been given his orders and was silently mulling them over. Darkwing crouched near the hatch. He had his eyes shut and was concentrating on his breathing. He needed a clear head to make this work. He had quickly made tourniquets and wrapped bandages tightly around his more unforgiving injuries, supporting and cushioning them. He never dreamt of going into this with no plan, it was suicide. He had a plan to get in and so far that was going as planned, but once he was in there he was alone. He would have to think on his feet and hope his brain was faster than Bulba's. He exhaled.

"They still tailing us?"

"You betcha' DW." Launchpad proclaimed proudly. The confidence dropped from his voice as he glanced back at him. "How are ya doin' back there?"

"Ask me again if we survive this." Dark took another deep cleansing (painful) breath. "It's not to late Launchpad, I understand if you can't do this. You don't owe me anything you know."

"You can count on me to stick it out Darkwing, I'm not going anywhere. So get use to it. " He was rather stern in his reply.

"In that case I'm glad you're here buddy." Dark smiled lightly.

"DW… we're there."

"All right LP." Darkwing stood up. "Let's get dangerous."

With out so much as a blink he kicked open the hatch and jumped out. There was an instantaneous reaction from Launchpad and the turrets dropped from the wings of the jet and opened fire on the sky scraper before them. The air rushed madly around Darkwing as he aimed at the windows that were swiftly falling away. Shattered glass rained in all directions, he pulled his cape around him and fired his grappling hook at his new entrance. He collided with the side of the building and quickly scaled it to his opening. He entered a bullet riddled office, rather plainly furnished nothing stood out about it apart from it's present resemblance to Swiss cheese. The broken glass crunched beneath his feet as he made his way deeper into the room. He had reason to believe that Bulba had built the research hangar on this floor, he wasn't sure. But he couldn't be sure of anything at this stage in the game, he had hoped to gain more sufficient recon before attempting a stunt like this but there was no time. He heard the Thunderquack's engine roar away and could see the red and blue police lights reflecting off the windows of surrounding buildings. This was it. He was on his own.

Jonah dug through his tool box in an attempt to look busy. Security had tightened up all of a sudden and he wasn't sure why. He could see Gosalyn pressed up against the glass window high above him, she looked like she was expecting something. Something odd was going on, and he only wished he wasn't the only one who didn't know what it was. The Ramrod was finished. He had been idly tinkering for the last few hours, hoping his old mind would concoct a plan. He might be able to bring her down here using the Ramrod. But then what? No, she would have to go through that thick sheet of glass to get down, he had to do something! Bulba had attacked her once already, he'd seen it. Bulba knew that he had been watching, that's why he did it. He had to get her out of there. What if he could lock onto the glass and move that first? He glanced around, the guards where all on edge and listening intently to a panicked voice on a walkie-talkie. He decided to do it. He flipped a switch, pounded some colored buttons, aimed, and fired. The glass removed itself from it's wall setting with an ungodly racket. The guards stared dumbfounded as the hovering glass pane set carefully down on it's edge in front of them, making a partial wall between them and Waddlemyer. He reset the controls and snagged her just as her guard had burst into the room. She zipped through the air and touched down rather clumsily on the floor. She dashed to him and he caught her in her jumping hug as the tears rolled down his wrinkled face. The guards had moved around the glass and surrounded the reunion with pointed pistols. Gosalyn held onto him tight.

"What do we do now Grandpa?"

"I…I hadn't figured that part out yet."

He could see her mind spring into action, but before she could pan through countless creative possibilities a dark lavender smoke swirled around them engulfing the scene. Her green eyes searched the fog as he started to hack on the thick smoke.

"What in blue blazes…?" Jonah coughed loudly. He felt a strong hand grasp his arm from out of the mist.

"Come with me." Commanded a gravely voice.

The smoke faded slowly and the masked mallard tugged at the old man's arm.

"Hurry there isn't much time!"

"Darkwing!" Squealed Gosalyn through tears of delight. The guards lay scattered upon the floor, the duck looked ruffled and roughed up like he had fought continuously to get this far. Which, Jonah concluded, must have truly been the case. The blue eyes twinkled slightly as they met the little girl's face.

"Hello Gos…." The determination left his face as he suddenly looked as if he was in the wrong place. The young man did a double take at his dressed up Granddaughter. "What are you wearing?"

A gunshot whizzed by his head as more guards made their presence known. Darkwing shoved them into the cover of the machine as the rest of the guards opened fire. The bullets bounced off of the reflective metal as they watched Darkwing peer around the side at their aggressors.

"Who are you sir?" Jonah could contain his curiosity no longer, he still held Gosalyn tight he would not loose her again.

"He's Darkwing Duck Grandpa! He's a superhero and he's a good friend of mine. He's come to save us!" Gosalyn sang the young man's praises with breathless enthusiasm.

"My stars, a superhero you say?" Jonah eyed the man she was so taken with.

"Well… with out the powers, and he's not really super… he doesn't really have anything special. He's kinda just a normal guy only in costume." She said thoughtfully.

"Gee thanks." Grumbled Darkwing.

"Oh well, I do not think super powers would have helped us much anyway. It does seem pretty hopeless I'm afraid." Jonah stroked Gosalyn's hair.

"This…. This is a Ramrod isn't it?" Darkwing's voice was quiet and serious.

"Why, yes. Yes it is. That is rather brilliant of you Mr. Darkwing no one outside of S.H.U.S.H.'s highest agents have ever seen the blue prints for this machine let alone seen it constructed. How you know this is most impressive indeed." Jonah couldn't help but feel in awe of this man. He was certainly worthy of Gosalyn's praise. Darkwing didn't turn but spoke as clearly as if he was face to face with him.

"How do you destroy it?"

Jonah stared at the figure beside him, he was shocked to hear the finality in his tone, the seriousness, he never would have expected it from some one like this. Jonah couldn't help but size him up, this young man was about five foot six inches, at least one hundred and fifteen pounds, and had to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old. Someone this age was suppose to be out in the world struggling to find themselves, find what they would spend the rest of their lives doing. Running around irresponsibly after girls with friends, getting drunk and sleeping the weekends away. Yet here he was, battered and beaten trying to take down an evil kingpin single-handedly, determined to save an old man and his granddaughter, and ontop of all this destroy a insanely dangerous weapon. He certainly was a misleading looking fellow, one would not expect him to be capable of great things yet something told him, this young man just might pull it off.

"There is a self destruct mechanism that is built inside it, I can trigger it with a button combination causing it to seize up and explode in five minutes."

Darkwing glanced thoughtfully at him, then returned his gaze to the approaching guards.

"If I distract the guards would you be able to enter the code? We can't let Bulba have this…"

"Yes I could set it off but then what? We won't make it out of here… you may have been able to reach here on your own but Gosalyn and I, we aren't as skilled as you are."

"We'll manage. I just need you to enter the code and be ready to follow me. I lured S.H.U.S.H. here so hopefully they will occupy the guards long enough for us to escape." Darkwing looked at the pair of them, he would have their lives in his hands. He couldn't let them down. "Professor Waddlemyer, I'm going now you have to destroy it. I think you already know that."

Darkwing bolted out of hiding his cape billowing out behind him. The guards quickly opened fire. Dark drew his gun and shot it into their ranks, the purple smoke wrapped around them shielding their eyes. He hadn't had enough time to make any more gas bombs or to even replenish his supply, all he had were two curtain canisters left. He'd have to take them out fast. Bullets shot blindly in all directions as he aimed for their pressure points, he couldn't afford to be sloppy. Amid the cries of anguish he could hear Waddlemyer…singing? Some sleepy song listing a slew of colors. He took out the last of the guards as the mist disappeared around him, he looked back at the Ramrod. Waddlemyer was at the control panel and was definitely singing while pushing a series of colorful buttons. It grabbed him before he could even register that someone had stampeded into the room. It crushed his esophagus as he fought the sight back into his eyes. Taurus Bulba's massive gray hand had encircled his throat and lifted him clear off the ground.

"WADDLEMYER! STEP AWAY FROM THE MACHINE!" Bellowed the livid voice of Bulba. Dark could see through the pain the horrible glare Jonah gave the bull. "Or perhaps yoo would explain to dear leetle Goesahleen why her hero was killed?" Bulba growled.

Jonah backed away, his hands in the air. He looked weaker and frailer than Gosalyn had ever seen him. He looked at her meaningfully, the song he was singing… she knew what he had tried to tell her.

"Veri gud." Bulba lumbered toward them Darkwing still lashing about in his clutches.

"Let Darkwing go!" She shrieked.

"Zis pest?" Bulba looked Darkwing dead in the eye and failed to see what Jonah had admired. With a bitter laugh, and with out a second glance he tossed him aside like he was nothing more than a shoe lace. Darkwing hunched over hacking as Bulba closed in on the Waddlemyers.

"I do hope yoo can explain yoorself Jonah." He slammed his hand on the old man's shoulder. "I vould hate to hear that yoo haf grown tired of my hospitality, and after all the trouble I went through to bring yoor enchanting young granddaughter here…" The brown eyes glistened with something that made Jonah fear for Gosalyn's well being all over again, Bulba really was a monster. Bulba pushed him backwards onto the floor and turned his attention to the Ramrod. Gosalyn helped her Grandfather sit up. "So eet es operational. Excellent."

Bulba jerked suddenly, as if aware of something that had gone unnoticed too long. In a swift turn he faced Darkwing just as he pulled the trigger of his gun. With a loud swoop of his menacing horns Bulba jettisoned the canister off course where it exploded uselessly on the wall. The curly smoke floated down the wall as Bulba straightened his suit.

"Bak on yoor feet already duck?"

"You'll have to do better than that to keep me down Bulba." Replied the diminutive duck with a glacial stare.

A new battalion of guards lead by Hammerhead entered the hanger. Before they could do anything Bulba held up his hand to halt them.

"Let me deal with zis insect. The Ramrod es operational take us up."

"Yes Boss." Complied Hammerhead.

"Soon Mr. Caped Crusader yoo will not be able to interfere with my plans."

The entire room heaved and the wall started to sink rapidly. There was a loud mechanical din and the hanger continued it's ascent.

"An elevator…." Dark mumbled to himself.

"Quite so. En route to the rooftops, the best location to try out my new Ramrod. Don't you agree?" Bulba stalked toward him.

Dark quickly fired a grappling hook at the bull's horns. The rope wrapped around them and he pulled as hard as he could. The souls of his boots slid across the floor, Bulba was too heavy to topple. Laughter erupted from the on looking henchman.

"Nice try duck…" Bulba grabbed he rope and pulled it fiercely toward himself. Darkwing planted his feet prepared but still wound up sliding toward the ogre.

He couldn't do this! It was hopeless! How could he defeat a foe he couldn't hurt?

Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney

This story is © Christina Smith

------------------------------------------------------------- Agh Macintosh Update again... so I can't see anything but HMTL babble hopefully it's in readable format... if not don't strain yourself I'll fix it later when I have access to an other computer. Well it's pretty late and my brain is fried... maybe I'll be witty next update... after all there's only two more chapters left... XD Hope Ya'll Enjoy! 


	13. Showdown

**Roots of Revenge**

-Chapter Thirteen-

Showdown

Thousands of roots slithered across the cold city pavement. Street lamps lay shattered in their wake, signs torn from their cement casings, even cars were crushed or violently thrown into the panicked streets. The tree army was on the move, a solid mass of bark and foliage engulfing anything that strayed in their path. In the front of the ranks atop one of his warriors was the chosen leader. His brilliant blue eyes locked on his target, his wooden bill clamped tight in a scowl. His foliage had completely changed from the lush green leaves to dark reds and oranges, even a few had darkened to a deathly brown. His life was rushing away faster than he could regenerate. If only he had taken the vile from Rhoda earlier, if he had just thought of it a bit sooner. If one vile could revive a man from a mutilated death surely on a living creature it would be a fountain of youth. When he arrived to seize what was his from her to his unspeakable rage, all that awaited him was a messy office and a note. Bulba had the serum and the girl as well. She had become quite an annoyance; he was unsure why he had spared her in the first place. After all she was one of them, the rotten creatures that destroy for their vain pleasure. The bull would no doubt try to use her as a bargaining chip, unaware of how little a chosen prophet cared for such a vile creature. At last it was time to end this. He would settle it all tonight, and become the savior of his followers, the rightful inhabitants of mother Earth. It ends tonight.

The foolish they called a hero hit the floor with intense force. Bulba stood over him gloating, he knew from the moment he saw him the duck was in no condition to fight. He had to sneer to himself; he had received a warning from the head of the Fiendish Organization of World Larceny just this afternoon pertaining to this feeble caped clown. Why the Boss was so persistent in making him understand that the idiot was not to be killed, he didn't know. And quite frankly he didn't care. He was forced to join F.O.W.L. and he had just about enough of taking orders. He'd break away from them soon enough and he'd start with grinding this buffoon into sand. He had to commend the duck's determination but he was really beginning to be a pest. The elevator was near the roof and he'd be at the peak position to use his new toy. The duck hobbled to his feet once again he just refused to stay down. Bulba laughed.

"Yoo are quite persistant Mr…..?"

"Darkwing Duck you better commit it to memory fat boy." Snarled the mallard.

"Darkwing, my apologies of course. Yoo are so eager to throw yoor life away."

"I will stop you."

"Oh yes? And save ze Waddlemeyers too no doubt?"

"That's the plan."

Darkwing complied himself while the bull let out a strong guffaw, he needed to think. Jonah and Gosalyn were currently in the clutches of Bulba's cronies, watching anxiously. Gosalyn's eyes watched Dark with fear and unbridled hope. He couldn't fail them. He had to down the lummox. Hammerhead was at the controls of the Ramrod watching gleefully at the pummeling, he would have to deal with him eventually. How could he do this? Bulba straightened his jacket.

"Come now… Do yoo really vant ze leetle girl to be subjected to anymore violence?"

He could feel the night breeze rustle his feathers, the fresh air uncluttered his brain. He had an idea…. Not the best one, but it was the only one he had. He positioned himself at an angle were Bulba's bulk would shield him from the minions view of him, and slowly reached his hand behind his back gripping a fist full of his tattered cape. The moment of truth had come, if he could do this he could turn the tables.

"You know, you're right. Maybe I should just throw in my cape."

In the blink of an eye the black shroud was flying at the bull's face. Bulba swatted it out of the air angrily.

"Yoo fool!" he cackled. "Yoo watch too many…" the smile vanished. "Vhere es he!" Roared the bull as he spun around and flared his nostrils in the direction of Hammerhead.

"I… I don't know Boss I couldn't see him!" Squeaked the terrified ram.

A cloud of smoke sprung up in a distant corner.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night…." Proclaimed the cloud.

"Shoot ze smoke!" Roared Bulba, his henchmen scattered in a frenzy of compliance. Over the din of gunfire the voice came again.

"I am the hero of St. Canard…" screamed the vanishing smoke.

"Yoo are a veri dead duck!" Shrieked a psychotic Bulba as he snatched a gun away from a close by lackey and began fire madly into the clearing mist.

"I am….not over there." Snickered the un-thrown voice of Darkwing. Taurus turned to see Jonah back at the Ramrod's controls, Gosalyn at his side. Darkwing stood over fallen guards he had taken out in the confusion, he had "liberated" them of their firearms. He now had both pistols aimed unflinching at Bulba.

"Yoo sneaky leetle rat. Who are yoo trying to kid! Yoo aren't shootink anyone, Mr. Hero!"

"Maybe I can let heroism slide this time…" the duck's cold eyes stared unblinking on Bulba.

The cityscape rose around them as the elevator jerked to a stop, the wind whipping around them as the glowing city peered at their face off.

"Professor if you would, please blow that thing into scrap metal." Darkwing asked cordially.

"I would be delighted."

A shot ripped through the air. Darkwing's heart stopped, he hadn't pulled the trigger and hadn't been hit. Gosalyn's scream behind him only plummeted his un-beating heart into an artic ice bath. It was surreal when he turned and saw Jonah collapsed at the foot of the console, Gosalyn cradling him in her arms tears flooding her face, a red patch rapidly spreading across his chest. This wasn't happening, he just had the situation in control… how could this have happened? An oddly punctuated laugh sang from where the fatal bullet originated. With out a second's hesitation Darkwing crossed the guns in front of him and shot at the unseen gunman. There was a high pitched sound of a metallic ricochet and a white suited rooster stepped forward. Darkwing was only allowed a moment to glare at the charismatic fowl and his odd metal plated beak, because with bone shattering force Bulba's massive horns collided with Dark sending him careening across the rooftop.

"Steelbeak!" Exploded the outraged bull. "Vhat ze hell are you thinking! Vith Waddlemeyer dead no one can control ze Ramrod!"

"Just read da manual." Cackled the rooster as he replaced his gun with a flourish. "He couldn't be trusted, da boss told ya that. Ya should thank me fer cleanin up yer mess." The cold gray eyes stared down the fuming bull.

She held him in her arms. The look in his wide eyes would scar itself into her mind, she would never forget the way he was right now. She heard an argument erupt but had no interest in what was going on. His breathing was strained and shaky.

"Oh…. Gosalyn, my poor, poor child. What have I done….? You must destroy it… I hate to leave you….this horrid task…. But you must…"

"Don't be silly Grandpa, you'll be all right!" Her voice cracked and was heavy with tears. "You're going to be all right…. It's like in the movies, I can't have come this far just to loose you now…. Like this." She sobbed.

The crimson spread along his lab coat soaking it through, her fingers became sticky with his blood. Her throat fought to close to stop the pain that scoured every inch of her.

"I can't have come all this way to have no family again."

His eyes crinkled in a smile.

"My dear, you don't even realize…. You've found someone …that realizes that next to you … and your spirit…everyone else looks empty."

"Grandpa…" She cried. His eyes slid out of focus, and he drew breath no more.

The building shuddered, and a sound like thousands of rustling leaves drew near. The twinkling sky line of St. Canard greeted them on all sides was suddenly it was obstructed when a giant vine shot straight up the side of the building. The vine was comprised of smaller vines and before their eyes it split and separated, letting it's passenger off on the crowded rooftop. All conversation stopped as the plant duck stalked menacingly towards them.

Darkwing found it hard to think let alone breathe. He couldn't move from the spot where Bulba had thrown him. One of his shattered ribs felt like it had punctured a lung. He didn't' know, he just knew that he had to get up. Jonah was dead and he would not let the same happen to Gosalyn.

The response was instant to the walking creature approaching the guards, who had collected in a line to block his path; almost in unison they aimed their firearms. Bulba looked on quite distastefully at the monster, pulling himself out of his rage towards Steelbeak. The rooster made a quick soft command into a small, expensive, cellular phone. Everyone was calm and collected, well… almost everyone. Hammerhead quickly hid behind the line of armed guards.

"I've come for the serum, just as you expected I'm sure." Snarled the wicked voice of Bushroot.

"Ah yoo must be ze unrelenting Doktor Reginald Bushroot. I must condone yoo on yoor unmatched stamina, but I am afraid yoor second life ends here." Sneered Taurus.

"I will have what I want and your lives… it makes no difference to me in which order it happens." The multitude of vines started to lurch forward and whip around madly.

"Kill him." Bulba laughed.

Every gun exploded into action. The vines encased Bushroot and danced around him making sure not one bullet connected. There was a loud thumping sound and a strong wind kicked up as a helicopter emblazoned with the letters F.O.W.L. descended, dropping a ladder to the rooftop.

"Dis is your shindig now Bulba don't screw it up!" Shouted Steelbeak as he gracefully scaled the ladder, the helicopter steadily retreating.

Hammerhead was loosing it. He had seen what happened to Hoof and Mouth, he wouldn't end up like that if he had anything to do with it. He tried to reach the ladder before it got out of reach but failed. Instead he found himself lifted off his feet by a livid Bulba.

"Try and grow a bak bone yoo coward." He snarled and tossed him back toward the guards.

The flailing vines shot forward and began to grab and slap gunners violently off the side of the roof , sending them plummeting down to the far away streets of St. Canard. This was proving to be a challenging night. Bulba had no time for this nonsense. The Ramrod was operational and would be christened with the death of this monster. He turned his attention away from Bushroot for the first time and placed his gaze on the Ramrod. With a jolt of shock he saw her punching the colored keys of the console. He reached Gosalyn just a second after she had finished. The Ramrod made a horrible screeching sound and a shrill beep sounded. Before the girl could turn around he had her by the throat and slammed her hard to the terminal machine.

"Yoo vill pay for zat yoo leetle…."

A clanging noise trailed across the top of the Ramrod and a stunned Taurus Bulba got a pair of steel toed boots to the face. He dropped Gosalyn as he fell backwards. Darkwing scooped her up and made a mad dash for the side of the building. A few guards saw him and averted their aim on to him. He clambered across the building in a state of numbness and delirium from pain, bullets whizzing by him.

"Gosalyn I am so sorry… I failed you. But you have to trust me!" He forced a blinking black box into her hand. "Do NOT let go of that!"

He grabbed her by the giant bow that encircled her waist and with all his might threw her over the side of the building. He spun around to find Bulba back on his feet and Bushroot taking out the last of the guards. His broken body threatened to crumble, but this was it. In five minutes time this would all be over, one way or another and he planned on going out fighting.

Hammerhead had run out of shields, and now Bushroot stood before him. The bright blue eyes dancing with madness.

"Reggie…" he peeped. "We…we can talk about dis! You want da girl back right? Y..you can have her and any other dame you want!"

"What makes you think I've come for her?" Sneered the creature. "Once you and your boss are dead I will be free to take over this entire world. What I was denied as Reginald I will RULE as Bushroot." The vines lashed out at Hammerhead.

Hannigan backed away and plucked an abandoned pistol off the floor he unloaded the remaining clip at the mutated doctor. The wounds that were received oozed with sap and didn't even make him flinch. In desperation Hammerhead threw the gun helplessly at him, and quickly reached into his pocket.

Floors below the battle on the rooftop S.H.U.S.H. agents cleaned out the last of the guards that remained at their posts. Hooter led his men around another corner. He had received a transmission from his men on the outside that they had intercepted a hostage transport en route to this position. A young woman named Dendrin was safely in the custody of his agents a good ten blocks away. There was something big going on, his ear bud receiver had been buzzing with claims of "walking trees" and apparently a huge vine had scaled this very building. They arrived at what appeared to be a giant elevator shaft.

"What should we do now sir?" Asked a voice at his back.

"Try to bring it down." He ordered. He spoke into his microphone. "Agent Grizzlicof we have encountered a snag what is your status?" A wave of feed back stabbed him in the ear in response. He heard startled cries from his agents but a voice quickly started speaking.

"Attention all S.H.U.S.H. agents you have to pull out NOW! Evacuate immediately!" Cried the frightened male voice.

"Who the devil is this! How did you hack into our channel!" Hooter didn't raise his voice but he was menacing all the same.

"There's no time to explain sir, the whole place is gonna blow in like four minutes! You need to go NOW! There has been a Waddlemeyer self destruct system activated!"

All the eyes in the room closed on him. He knew very well what that brand of explosion entailed he had over seen Jonah's perfection of it. He knew that if this was true four minutes would be barely enough time to clear out. But who was this man and how did he know of the Waddlemeyer brand of explosion?

"Are you certain?"

"Positive, Mr. Hooter."

An agent tapped him on the shoulder and whispered.

"Sir, the transmission is coming from an unregistered aircraft that is circling the area. They are saying it's the vigilante's jet."

"Darkwing Duck…" Hooter said carefully. There was a moment of silence. "All agents evacuate! I repeat, Pull out immediately! Agents outside the building should issue a state of emergency! We need to clear the area to two blocks! Go! Go! Go!"

Bulba kept overpowering him. Darkwing struggled up from his eight face plant. There had to be a way to best this behemoth! Bulba stalked toward him his nostrils flaring to the size of grapefruit. In a half thought out plan Dark shot a grappling hook around the bull's ankles and pulled as hard as he could. Against all his doubts it worked. In a scream of rage Bulba toppled over. Darkwing swiftly bound the rope around Bulba's wrists, looped his throat, and stood on his back. He felt the spine beneath his soles wriggling, he didn't have the strength to strangle the bastard but he knew with one good stomp he would end this. A shrill blood curdling scream stayed his foot.

Hammerhead had not proven enough of a competitor to beat Bushroot. The vines were busy ripping him limb from limb. Darkwing stared in horror fighting the urge to vomit. Bulba took this moment to throw Dark off his back. As Darkwing regained himself a familiar "thumthumpthump" sounded from above. A black helicopter was descending to escort Taurus to a safer locale. Dark found he had landed by a discarded gun and quickly fired at the fleeing bull. Bulba shrieked in pain and stumbled taking a bullet in the leg. Before he could fire again he was in the crushing grasp of the vines.

"Easy there 'defender of the innocent' this one is mine." Bushroot's voice was calm as he stopped beside Darkwing his gaze on Bulba. He narrowed his angry eyes. Faster than a blink of an eye a great number of vines shot over their heads and latched onto the helicopter. Bulba turned to look at Bushroot, terror consuming his face. With a steady pull the vines bested the propeller and brought the struggling helicopter to an earsplitting crash on the rooftop, right on top of Taurus Bulba. The remains of the copter caught fire and the blades severed the roof. Now he and Bushroot were the only ones left on this rooftop. The mutant slowly turned to him, his eyes burning with malice. Darkwing could feel the bloody hand of Hammerhead smashed against his back in his leafy restraints.

"Tell me… where were you when the innocent Reginald Bushroot needed a defender? How do you justify your claim if you were unable to help him that night?" Shrieked the demented mallard before him.

"I can't be everywhere at once…" He was cut off by the vines squeezing the breath out of him. He felt something small still clenched in the dismembered arm.

"Then it is best you are nowhere." Said Bushroot like a morbid judge making his verdict. "That way you cannot pick and choose who will suffer."

Darkwing closed the now familiar object in his hand, could his luck hold out?

With a painful breath and a prayer he flicked it into life. The lighter caught the vines and they quickly released him as they became engulfed in flames. Bushroot cried out trying to silence the screams in his mind. Darkwing took up the gun again and started firing at the deformed duck. In his rage Bushroot lunged at him with a terrible screech he wrapped his leafy hands around the mallard's throat. He felt the duck's adam's apple struggling beneath his strong, crushing grip. Within seconds his arm was lit on fire, it spread quickly to his back and up to his canopy, he screamed as the dancing flames covered his body. He had let go of Darkwing but he knew he wouldn't get away. Then it happened.

She awoke in the cockpit of the Thunderquack. Her head hurt, she remembered falling and landing suddenly on the nose of the jet. Opening her hand she saw she was still holding the little box he had given her. Launchpad sat beside her, his eyes locked on a distant rooftop. He hadn't noticed she'd woken up.

"Where's Darkwing?"

He glanced at her then looked meaningfully back to the building, a helicopter was burning on the roof and she could just make out the Ramrod. When she squinted she could see two figures struggling with each other.

"We have to go get him!" She commanded.

Launchpad didn't have a chance to argue no sooner had he looked back to her there was an earthshaking din. He threw himself on top of her and forced her down onto the chair the jet shook with the concussion. Launchpad shot up and she followed him. Debris was sticking out of the buildings closest to the sky scraper. Or what was left of it. A fire raged where the top ten floors had been. She saw Launchpad lower his head into his shaking hands, and all she could do was cry.

Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney

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Argh... Sorry it took me so long but here it is. Expect the last one soon (I mean it this time).


	14. Adoption Day

**Roots of Revenge**

Chapter 14

Adoption Day

In the weeks that passed she had been in the newspapers and even interviewed on T.V. There was a wave of couples of all ages, species, and nationalities from all over coming to in hopes to bring the tragic little girl home as a daughter. At first she would meet with them, try to carry on a conversation as best she could, but she would always end up in tears. And lately she had simply refused to see them at all. They had already started to reconstruct the top of the building and clean up the damage the explosion had caused. She could see it from her window, and she would solemnly watch it daily. There was a city wide effort to return it all to normal, which was no small task. There were nearly a hundred trees crammed around the building's base, some destroyed in the blast others just stood there. It had taken a while but they had gotten the surviving trees back to the park where they were replanted. But in the area that she was hoping they would, they found nothing. There were no signs of her Grandfather, Bulba, Bushroot, Hammerhead, or Darkwing. She had over heard people saying that anyone who was on that roof would have been incinerated, no one survived. No one apart from her, and the bastard who killed her Grandfather. It seemed like every time she would try to sleep she would see her Grandfather dying and the horrible cackle in her ears. She spent today staring out the window refusing to see any hopeful parents. She knew it was rude but she didn't care. She had seen Launchpad though. He had come the day after the incident to look into adopting her, but his background check had preventing him from even being considered. She had tried to find out why but was flatly denied an answer. She had met a couple celebrities, some rich people came to try and coddle her, J. Gander Hooter had paid her a short visit, and even Gizmoduck had tried to cheer her up. The entire time he was with her Drake's words haunted her and she found herself sobbing before too long.

She felt empty. She had been asked to talk about herself and her feelings so often by so many she began to hate herself, she just wanted to be alone. The sun was high this afternoon, and lately Mrs. Cavanaugh had picked and choosed when she would ask her if she wanted to see the teeming perspective parents. If one good thing had come of this it was that she noticed that a good number of those who had come to see her took other children with them. She watched as they would leave on interviews, check ups, and then finally leave for good. They all passed beneath her window, smiling brightly and talking vapidly. In the past few minutes a pretty young duck with curly red hair and her proper looking husband, an older plump canine woman, a stiff man in a scraggily looking dress coat and hat, and an animated mouse family had all entered the orphanage. They were here for her no doubt. She glanced around her room. The pink dress she had worn that night lay folded under her pillow, she would pull it out at night and let the smells fill her senses. The scent of her Grandfather's cologne and a faint smell of smoke had all but faded in recent nights. She hadn't been sleeping well…. And she feared the tears she had cried into the soft fabric had eradicated the smells. There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Cavanaugh opened it a crack.

"Gosalyn dear. There are some more here to see you. Won't you please come out and at least thank them for their concern?" Her voice was sweet and gentle. It was quite strange to hear her this way she usually was screaming herself hoarse over one of her more elaborate pranks.

With a sigh Gosalyn, nodded and followed her down stairs. All the people she had seen come in were all in attendance. She eyed the bright smiles of the women she knew wanted nothing more than to love her and be her "new" mother. Mrs. Cavanaugh placed a hand on Gosalyn's shoulder lovingly.

"I don't feel much like talking today." She started and the "mother's" eyes become dewy with tears. "Thank you all for coming though. Maybe you could see some of the other children."

She thanked them again and sulked back up the stairs. She heard some hushed voices and a couple sobs before she closed her door. Hours passed and she began to see the people leaving. Some noticed her and sadly waved, while others bickered and argued fiercely backed to their cars. The older dog staggered out at around three thirty. Her stomach was so empty it was hurting and making thunderous grumbles. In hopes of sneaking off to the kitchen she slowly opened the door. To her surprise she heard Mrs. Cavanaugh using the tone she was all too familiar with, speaking very loud and angry. She snuck a little closer to the stairs to better listen in.

"Sir I have told you already and so has she! She is not interested in seeing anyone today. Perhaps if you come back tomorrow…"

"I understand that. But letting her sit in that room alone is not good for her either! Would you please just tell her I'm still here?" Said a scratchy voice rough with the sound of laryngitis.

"The girl has been through more than you and I will ever know. I really appreciate your concern and persistence in your condition but, I still will not ask her to do something she doesn't want to!"

It had to be the man in the dress coat. He was the only one she hadn't seen leaving. What did she mean by "in your condition"? And why was he so set on seeing just her that he'd stay here all day? He cleared his throat loudly and her heart stopped when she though she heard a familiar tone in the voice distorted in sickness.

"Fine. But would you please tell her that I was here today? And let her know I'll be back everyday if she wants to continue being difficult?"

"Of course, Mr. Mallard."

Gosalyn practically fell down the stairs she ran so fast. She hadn't just heard it, did Mrs. Cavanaugh just say what she thought she did?

"What did you say happened to you again?" Came Mrs. Cavanaugh's suspicious voice.

"I was in a car accident. Other guy's fault, I'm lucky to be alive. I would have come sooner but, you know I had to heal a bit."

She stumbled into the room and both heads turned to her. Mrs. Cavanaugh stared at her like she was a ghost. She had to blink a few times to tell herself she really saw him that he was really here. Drake, his right arm in a sling and a few new scars on his face, blinked back.

"Gosalyn this is Mr. Drake Mallard. He claims you have met before?" The matron eyed him with the same uncertain glance she gave the troublesome children in her care.

In a frenzy of tears and laughter she threw herself on him. A bit stunned he caught her mid-leap, she felt his body flinch and knew he must still be in a great deal of pain.

"I can't believe you're here… I'm so glad you're alive." She buried her face in his coat and breathed in deep the faint smell of smoke. It made her tears come heavier. He gently patted her head.

"Hey, of course I'm alive. I couldn't leave you all alone now could I?"

She looked up into his ice blue eyes and her pain seemed to release it's hold on her heart. She knew her Grandfather was still dead, she would never loose that pain but, having Drake here, knowing he was still here for her. She almost began sobbing. She suddenly regained her senses and her heart gave a leap. She stared at him trying not to get her hopes up.

"What are you doing here?" She said breathlessly.

"Well, how do you like that?" He laughed.

"Gosalyn don't be silly! He wants to adopt you!" Said the reproachful matron.

"That is of course if you want me to. I know I can't replace your parents or your grandfather, but would you give me a shot?" His blue eyes glistened with a fondness and silent smile.

"Yeah right! Like I'd say no!" She shouted.

The arrangements were made, paperwork was filled out, the background check was performed and it was agreed that Drake would go through the adoption process. In the days that followed a home study would be conducted and a case worker would be assigned. Gosalyn couldn't help but feel nervous that they wouldn't let it happen, that they'd find out who he was, what he did. She must have looked nervous because he ruffled her hair and smiled a smile that made her fears disappear. It would happen. He would adopt her, she wouldn't be alone anymore. After the business was wrapped up with a firm request from Gosalyn, Mrs. Cavanaugh allowed them to leave the building and talk on the more private Orphanage grounds. She led him to the plain little playground that was behind the building. She sat on the edge of the small sandbox and pulled him down to sit beside her. He groaned slightly as he settled in.

"How did you survive?" She hissed in an excited whisper.

"I jumped."

"Jumped? Where?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I just leapt off the roof and the explosion sent me flying about three blocks. I managed to latch onto a fire escape and pull myself to safety. Someone must have found me, because when I woke up I was in the hospital." He rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Does Launchpad know you're okay?"

"Of course, I met up with him a few nights ago."

"You were beat up pretty bad huh?" Her eyes rested on the sling.

"That's an understatement, shattered a few ribs, punctured a lung, broke my arm, fractured a couple bones, and I have a ton of bruises. But you know what? I'd do it all again in a heart beat." He glanced at her sadly. "I'm sorry Gos, I couldn't help your Grandfather. I didn't…"

She shook her head and put a hand gently on his back.

"You did all you could I know that. There was no way you would have known that he was going to get shot like that… if you had I would have to be afraid of you."

They sat staring off into nothing lost in their own thoughts for a moment. He turned to her with a curious glance.

"I have got to know Gos. How did you know the code to make the Ramrod blow up like that?"

"Well…" she sighed. "…when I lived with Grandpa he would sing me to sleep. Only he was never very good with remembering lullabies. But for every invention he made he would remember the destruct sequence with a little song, he found it easier to remember them that way. He just happened to like to sing the Ramrod one to me. So when he started humming, when he trying to enter the code I knew" She closed her eyes and sadly sang "_Yellow, Blue, Red, Blue, Purple too, Blue, Purple, Green and Yellow._"

Her song echoed softly off of the orphanage and the surrounding buildings. It slowly faded, devoured by a thoughtful silence. Drake seemed to have quite a lot to think about. She wanted to hear him talk again, it was still too unreal.

"Where will we live? Oh! Are we going to live in the tower?" Her eyes twinkled.

"Nope. I bought a house last week out in the suburbs. It seems pretty nice. The neighbors are a bit … odd though."

She smiled. The grass swayed softly in the breeze, a few leaves scurried across the ground taken with the wind.

"What happened to Bushroot?"

"He got his revenge. I think he's dead, I suppose we would have heard from him all ready if he wasn't."

Drake and Gosalyn sat silently as the breeze swept across the tree tops.

Dr. Rhoda Dendrin stood in the empty office that had once been his. His research had all been stored away in the laboratory archives and his plants taken on by others. It was nothing but a bare room with a few empty filing cabinets. She had thought about him a lot these past few weeks. It still felt like he would walk through the front door and demand to know where all his things were. But she knew better than to believe that. There was a knocking down the hall, she peered out the doorway and saw a delivery man rapping at her office door.

"I'm down here."

The man handed her a rather large parcel and with her signature in hand he bid her good day. There was no return address on the label. Carefully she opened it; a note written on blood red paper with black ink lay on top of a large bag of soil. She lifted up the letter.

_**Dr. Rhoda Dendrin,**_

_**I believe our friend will be right as rain with a few drops and a warm transplant.**_

_**D.G.**_

"D. G."? She could think of no one she had ever met with those initials. She stared down at the bag and fingered the vile she always carried with her. She knew that there was a part of Reggie in that bag. That didn't bother her. What did was that she already knew where to plant him.

--The End--

Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney

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And there it is! Ah sorry it took me so long to put it up and thanks for sticking with me! I've learned so much through your reveiws and have been inspired greatly by your support. I cannot thank you wonderful people enough! The most I can do is start typing up the next one and hope no one is disappointed. Who knows maybe it won't take me the same obscene amount of time to get it posted. In thanks for your awesome-ness here's a quick teaserfor the second installment,

Drake is struggling with the task of being a father to a disruptive and spirited child. And as if parenting wasn't hard enough a madman in a Jester suit wants to kill him and the strangest thing of all... a beautiful woman with magical powers seems to have taken a "_liking"_ to him, which turns his world, head, and heart upside down. Can he trust the macabre beauty? Can he stop the fiend known only as Quackerjack? Can he get Gosalyn out of suspension? Keep an eye out for The Madman and The Mistress.


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